


Newton's 3rd Law

by TheBlackLagoon



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 1966 AU, First Contact AU, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Injuries, Other, Road Trip to California, Slow Burn Romance, Vietnam War, Vulcan Mind Melds, accidental mind melds, draft dodging, lots of campfires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 53,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackLagoon/pseuds/TheBlackLagoon
Summary: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction: It’s 1966, and James Kirk is an eighteen year old draft dodger on his way out of the country when he encounters a crash-landed alien ship. Spock is on a search for his human mother Amanda Grayson who’s halfway across the country in California. Both Jim and Spock are running, Jim from war and Spock from the impossible standards of his father, but they find solace in one another.
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek, James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 29
Kudos: 114
Collections: T’hy’la Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can not explain how big this is for me, actually finishing a fic this long and in a relatively short amount of time (for me that is). Being part of the Th'y'la Big Bang this year has been a wonderful experience and I am so glad to have had the chance to be apart of it. Before joining this bang I was only a casual viewer of Star Trek and now I'm hopelessly obsessed, and I hope this fic reflects the joy I've experienced through all of this.  
> [This work is also accompanied by awesome art from the lovely @YsabeauV!](https://ysabeau-valikov.tumblr.com/)  
> And  here you can find the fic's playlist on Spotify!

**Ely, Minnesota. March 1966**

The end of March was slowly approaching, the chill of winter lazily receding into the rain-slicked pavement and cloudy days of April. Jim had not spent many of his years on earth particularly caring how the seasons changed around him. In the summer it was hot, in the winter it was cold. It was now, however, as he spent hours methodically washing dishes in the back of Howie’s diner, that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. How he was going to miss the icicles that hung from the roof’s edge, shining like glass in weak sunlight. How he would be dismayed to find the lack of glimmering frost on the grass in the mornings. But most of all, this change from winter wonderland to overcast gloom, seemed to be just another reminder of how impermanent everything was around him. 

He could no more keep the seasons from changing than he could anything else in his life. Which explained perfectly his situation at the diner.

Howie’s was crowded, not with anyone Jim knew, and not with anyone Jim ever planned on getting to know. The front room was busy for a Saturday night, each booth filled to the brim with boisterous patrons. Even working in the back, Jim could hear them. Families mostly, their conversations filled with excited chatter. The Timberwolves’ last basketball game of the season had let out an hour ago, and the home team was still celebrating their win. As a girl in one of the far left booths shrieked in joy, Jim let his mind wander. Back in Riverside, he’d been the captain of the basketball team. The Bulldogs of “64” had been a good team, a solid one. It had been just two years ago, but it felt like a lifetime away after the events of the past six months. Instead of Howie’s diner, they’d had a little malt shack they’d retreat to after a rightly won game. He remembered quite distinctly a waitress there who had always given him an extra cherry with his malt. 

Jim’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Zeke, one of the wait staff, dropping a pile of dishes unceremoniously into the sink in front of him. Scalding water splashed up his front, but Jim refused to flinch. He scrubbed his face of the water and watched as Zeke stalked away back out the swinging doors without any acknowledgment of the slight. The rest of the kitchen staff followed suit and kept their mouths shut, continuing their work in silence. 

They all knew Zeke had gotten the letter today. He’d be leaving for basic training in a week. 

Jim turned back to the new pile of dishes in front of him, schooling his face into neutrality. There was no point in confronting the guy. Not like Jim had a right to blame him for skulking around the diner like a kicked puppy anyhow. No, no right at all.

Jim had been living in the town of Ely for a month now, and he’d watched as the diner’s staff had slowly petered away. First, it had been Pete, a college drop-out with a penchant for reading on the job. Then Stephen, one of the part-time kitchen staff, who’d shared a cigarette with Jim once. Bill had been the oldest to leave, 30, and with a kid on the way. There were others in town too, missing, stolen away by the draft. Now, finally, Zeke. Zeke, who Jim knew had a younger sister at home and no one else. Jim didn’t know what was going to happen to her, and he wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough to find out.

He was going to leave soon. He knew he had to, after that last call from his mother. Besides, the waiting staff were starting to remember his name or at least the pseudonym he’d given them. He was simply becoming too fixed. The last thing he could do was sit idle. 

As a new wave of people poured into the diner, Jim turned to watch them through the kitchen window as they took their seats. People watching was about the only thing he could do to get through the job and not be bored to death. His eyes caught on quickly to the most imposing figure of the newest group. Brown jacket, blue button-up shirt, and a gleaming badge pinned for all eyes to see. Jim’s hand jerked suddenly sending the knife he’d been washing on a direct course to his open palm. With a hiss he pulled back from the sink, cradling his hand to his chest.

“You alright there George?” It took a moment for Jim to realize he was the one being spoken to, one of the many problems of giving a fake name. He turned towards the speaker quickly, making sure to keep blood from staining his shirt any more than it already had. Alberta was watching him with worried eyes. She did that a lot. He had an inkling it was because of the son she’d lost in Vietnam. 

“Me? Oh, I’m fine, just peachy. You got a rag I could borrow Alberta?” Jim asked, flashing her a grin no one but his own mother would take as insincere. Alberta put down her loaded tray and tossed him the dishcloth looped through her apron.

“Awful noisy out there, isn't it?” she said picking her tray back up carefully, as Jim wrapped the cloth around his hand. 

“It’s not so bad, I’m just jumpy tonight I guess,” Jim lied through his teeth as Alberta nodded thoughtfully. Jim peaked out through the kitchen window again and watched as the deputy took a seat amongst a group of wild-eyed teenage boys still clothed in their team tanks and shorts. He knew, logically, he had nothing to worry about. Jim was farther away from home than he’d ever been in his entire life, and was about to be even farther. Some small-town deputy wouldn’t know his real name. Or about the farm in Iowa, or the mother he’d left there. Jim was safe, safe in the obscurity of his lie, and his backroom job as a dishwasher. 

“George, that cut’ll get nasty if you keep washing- Why don’t you head home for the night? I’ll get Danny to cover for you,” Alberta said tentatively, and Jim swiveled his head to meet her gaze. She was looking at him hard, like she knew, somehow, what was eating at him. He cast his eyes down to his wrapped hand and tried to think of a way to thank her. 

“Sure Dan can handle it?” Jim asked, looking back up, letting his mouth quirk up at the side. Alberta smiled at him, and Jim could tell in some way, she _did_ know what he was, what he was running from.

“Just make sure you leave your apron on the back counter, and I’ll make sure Danny doesn’t tarnish your dishwashing reputation. Now _go_ ,” Alberta said, her eyes flickering to the kitchen window, where the Deputy was standing, and making his way to the counter to order. Jim untied his apron, and before he could really think over the implications, he kissed Alberta on the cheek and was off. 

**~~~**

The joy of his so-called escape was fleeting as Jim drove too fast down twisting, backcountry roads. The night was a blanket cover of darkness laid out in front of him, and with his weakening headlights, the farther he drove the more weary he became. Ely had been the last town on his map, and now for miles, all that could be seen before him was untouched forests. 

The map he had tucked into his glove box was going to be less than helpful if he couldn’t see it. Any and all artificial light was far behind him now, and he knew his flashlight was stashed somewhere deep within one of his duffle bags. It seemed there was not much choice but to find somewhere to camp for the night. It was all National forests around him now, he knew at some point he’d have to pay a toll at a ranger station, but for the moment it seemed he’d just have to hide out.

Pulling off to the side of the road Jim quickly took note of the forest being illuminated by his headlights. The undergrowth was thick leaving no way in, unless Jim wasted the better part of an hour hacking away at it, which he was definitely unwilling to do this late at night. Jim eased the truck forward a bit, driving farther along the edge of the woods, squinting into the darkness to find any form of a trail. 

After ten minutes or so he finally found an opening, just big enough for his truck. It was overgrown, but nothing the vehicle couldn’t handle. Carefully Jim drove down the path, and as he did he could feel his tense muscles easing with every passing second. However dark and strange these forests maybe, nature like this would always remind Jim of a better time in his life.

The trail stretched farther into the woods than he would have guessed, and after a good twenty minutes, he came upon a clearing. It wasn’t big, not much larger than the kitchen of Howie’s Diner. It would be enough however for Jim to make a proper camp. 

Cutting the ignition, Jim hopped out of the truck to prepare for the night. Pulling the canvas from the truck bed, he revealed his stash of goods. Atop a thin and worn mattress was a pile of old paperbacks, anything Jim had felt he could carry from his room back home. His duffle bag was in the far left corner and pulling himself up over the lip of the truck bed, Jim began digging his way through in search of flint and his flashlight. 

Once he’d found both, he jumped back down to the ground and flicked the flashlight on. The beam was weaker than it had been two weeks ago, the last time he’d had to camp out. Making a mental note to pick up batteries soon, Jim headed out of the clearing into a more dense forest in search of firewood. Spring could not come sooner for Jim, the winter chill still hung in the air, and he tightened his threadbare coat a little tighter around himself.

The forest was quiet, the air still and heavy. The flashlight beam only cast light a dozen or so steps ahead, so Jim walked slow and steady, collecting fallen branches and letting his mind wander into numb oblivion. It was an easy process that Jim didn’t have to think about as he worked, but he made sure not to wander far from his camp. He counted his steps, one by one, and when his arms were full to a point where he could barely hold the flashlight, he turned around. It took him less than fifteen minutes, but it still felt too long without fire as Jim’s hands shook from the cold, with the flint clutched uncomfortably in his grip. 

Finally, after a bit of trial and error, he was able to make a spark, and slowly, slowly he built the fire up. Jim had made sure beforehand to clear the ground of any fallen leaves. The last thing he needed was a smoke signal leading directly to him. As the fire grew, Jim sat back on his haunches, and watched dazedly, as the flames flickered. He’d done this countless times before with fires in the farm house’s fireplace. For cold winter nights, bonfires in the summer and fall. It still amazed him, however, how easy it was to use man’s first tool.

With a sigh, Jim finally pushed himself to his feet, feeling the ache of the cold had left him enough to get ready for sleep. 

Pulling the mattress from the truck bed had been an ordeal the first time he’d done it on his own, but at this point in his travels, Jim had become a pro at maneuvering the heavy item. Next, from within the truck, he grabbed the heavy quilt from his grandmother and laid them both out next to the fire. Not close enough to burn, but close enough Jim wouldn’t become a living ice cube in the night. 

There was no point in changing, anything else he had to wear would leave him cold. After stoking the fire until he was sure it would last for half the night, Jim finally sank down onto the mattress. 

Despite the hours of work he’d spent at the diner, his aching feet, sore hand, and general weariness, he was restless. The kind of restless, where he could almost hear the whirring in his brain. He wished so fervently that he didn’t have to feel anything, that he could let himself sleep. He was feeling so much all the time these days. Anger, remorse, shame, and guilt.

The guilt was the worst of it really. It ran so deep that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to escape it.

He tilted his head up, taking in a steadying, deep breath, feeling the chill night air as it filled his lungs. The burn of it was nice, made it harder to think, easier to relax onto the thin mattress. The stars, pinpricks of searing white light, stung his eyes as he gazed at them. The stars were easy to focus on, like little maps of the sky. He could see Polaris, the guiding north light, and far below it Orion. Jim traced the constellation with his eyes, naming each star like he’d done hundreds of times with his father before. Betelgeuse, Bellatrix, Mintaka, Alnilam.

His eyes were slipping shut, slowly at first where he could feel the draw of gravity on his lids. He continued naming, like an advanced counting of sheep. There below Betelgeuse, Alnitak, Saiph, Rigel, and- Jim sat up quickly, his head spinning slightly at the jerked movement. He blinked several times in rapid succession, but no- that really was a star he didn’t recognize. It had a truly red tint to it, bright as the star Arcturus. It couldn’t be possible, just last night Jim had been looking at that same patch of sky where no star had resided previously. Except, there it was, shining brighter than Polaris, like some kind of planet it was so clear in the sky. So large that-

It _couldn’t_ be a star. It was getting bigger by the second, and brighter, much, much brighter than before. Scrabbling up from the mattress, Jim watched as the thing that was not a star took shape in the sky. It was something falling, something big and burning. There was a flash of light before a boom echoed through the sky as the object suddenly broke through the atmosphere. 

For a moment, a shockingly terrifying moment, Jim was sure it was coming straight for him, but as the object hurtled farther and farther down, it’s trajectory became more clear. It passed a good 500 yards above his head and then hurtled across the copse of trees, and Jim spun around to watch as it sheared their tops, raining destruction on the forest in front of him. The impact hit hard, the boom shattering the quiet, and causing the ground to shudder violently. Jim stumbled backward and onto his ass, ears ringing, addled by the wave of destruction. He watched as the fire beside him sputtered in a gust of wind, and then rose higher. 

As the ringing in his ears died away, Jim sat in the stunned half silence of the night. The air settled uncomfortably around him, dirt and debris raining down on his shoulders and legs softly. Coughing slightly, Jim began to brush himself off, eyes glued to the path of destruction in front of him. He rose tentatively to his feet, and tried to ignore the shaking in his legs. There were no new noises coming from the direction of the crash landed object, but Jim was still wholly unsure of his next move. His camp was unharmed, his fire was still casting a warm glow. He could leave it until morning.

With a soft groan, Jim took off into the woods.

The forest was no longer dark with night, but with a hellish glowing red, leaving Jim an easily lit path. The shine increased as he continued the trek through broken trees, everything cast in a hazy rust color in the midst of smoke and dust. A few more yards down the path Jim stumbled upon raised ground, where the thing must have finally hit. He picked up his pace, dodging fallen trees, and displaced boulders. Then finally as his adrenaline began to wean, his eyes touched upon the fallen object. The glow he had followed through the woods seemed to be diminishing now, but could only have been caused by the heat of entry into the atmosphere. It was long and pod shaped, about the length of a bus, half sunk in the ground, and the color of rusted iron. A loop of welded metal was attached to it’s back, almost like an engine, but there were no propellers Jim could see. 

It was like nothing Jim had ever seen, like nothing he’d ever read. It was no airplane or helicopter, the closest resemblance that Jim could think of was a life size toy rocket ship. 

Jim’s feet were planted to the ground as he stared at it. This unearthly thing. But it couldn't actually be from outer space. Maybe it was a Russian satellite. Except Jim had seen pictures of Sputnik in the paper, the satellite had been much smaller, a metal ball with four extending T.V. antenna-like arms. This was- well, not that. 

A sudden thought struck Jim as he continued to stare, about another book he’d finished recently. He’d been on an H.G Wells kick ever since he’d read The Time machine. Now though, he was not thinking of fantastical trips to the future, but of Martians, and lasers and death. There was a creeping sense in Jim’s mind however that, despite this fear, the fear of the unknown that was so ever prevalent in his life these days, he needed to find out what was inside.

Slowly, careful not to touch the hull of the thing, Jim made his way around the rocket, placing his hands in front of him carefully guiding himself over uneven earth. The front of the rocket, where Jim presumed the viewport would be, was submerged in dirt. There was however a thin seam that he could make out on the side. Carefully reaching out a hand Jim touched the metal siding, and then brought it back just as fast. Instead of the searing heat he’d been expecting, the metal was cool to the touch. Jim stared at it in awe for a moment, before lowering his hand once again. Running it along the seam of the door, Jim tried to surmise how to open it. It was too tightly shut now, but maybe there was something around him he could use to lever it open. 

Glancing around at the ground Jim noticed a piece of shorn rock that looked sturdy enough to give it a go. Jim grabbed it, and just as he was about to bring it up to the door, a hissing sound broke out. Fumbling backward in shock, Jim watched as the locked hatchway rose open steadily. Smoke poured out from within, and Jim could do nothing but gape at the ship in awe. He could still make nothing out, flashing emergency lights from inside only highlighting in small parts the severely damaged insides. Hanging, sparking wires, and shards of ripped metal seemed bountiful. Then suddenly, illuminated by the pulsing red light, a figure emerged.

The thing was monstrously tall and thin, but Jim could not move, could not scream as it hobbled from the ship, still concealed in the smoke cloud. Nothing before could have prepared Jim for the fear that gripped him in that brief moment. 

Then the thing coughed weakly and stumbled forward into the unobstructed view of Jim.

It was a boy, wiry and thin, dark hair evenly cut across his forehead. He was covered in soot and wearing a gown of grey and blue, the fabric now a ruin of dark smudges and tears. He didn’t look much younger than Jim, maybe a year or so, but through all the grime it was hard to discern. His left eye was plastered shut by blood, dripping from his forehead. The eye that was open, not covered by the blood, was a startlingly dark color, and it landed directly on Jim, still toppled over and frozen in fear. 

As soon as their eyes locked, Jim could feel himself inexplicably, _relax_. If anyone had asked Jim at that moment what it was he was feeling, he couldn’t have answered in any way that made sense. For whatever reason, logical or insane, this person seemed like home. 

Just as Jim felt he could speak, the boy took another step forward, and immediately collapsed. Without thinking, as he’d done several times that night, Jim moved to the other boy’s side. He was breathing, shallow and weak, but he _was_ breathing. 

As Jim picked him up, he started rationalizing. Of course, this must be some Russian scheme. Everybody and their mothers knew Russia wanted to make it to the moon just as much as the U.S. This kid must have been some kind of experimental astronaut.

To Jim’s relief, the boy was not heavy, and so the steady walk back to his camp was not as strenuous as he had first worried. The boy seemed well and truly unconscious, and Jim had to keep checking under his nose to see if he was breathing, panic rippling through him as the light from the ship diminished behind them. It was the glow of Jim’s fire that led him back, and as he stepped into the clearing it crackled cheerfully. 

Heaving a sigh of relief, Jim, careful not to jostle him too much, laid the other boy down on his mattress. Without glancing back down he ran to his truck bed, digging through his supplies once again, for his medkit. He’d already patched himself up once tonight for the cut on his hand, and so it was thankfully easily accessible at the top of the bag. Taking stock of the bandages, and bottle of medical alcohol, Jim filled his arms with supplies. He knew from first-hand experience with a snowball filled with gravel to the temple, and an everlasting grudge against Timmy Donnely, that head wounds bled _a lot_. Jim had prepared himself for this, and he was by nature, not squeamish around blood anyway. 

What he was not prepared for, however, was his first clear view of the other boy’s face. In the red glow of the ship, Jim had noticed nothing strange about the boy's appearance. Now, in the light of his fire, and away from the smoke and dust, Jim could see quite clearly that his blood was _green_. Where it had dried grimy and sticky on his cheek, it looked like paint flecks, cartoonishly out of place for the messy gash it was flowing from. 

Jim took a deep breath and tried not to panic. The guy had to be sick, that’s why the blood was off color. He needed Jim’s help now, and then he needed a hospital. He did not allow himself the time to be bent out of shape about it. _So what_ , the guy had a few abnormalities. Just last year Jim had read in Ripley’s Believe it or not about a cow with two heads. Anything could be possible.

Shaking his head to clear it of any other intrusive thoughts, Jim got to work. He cut a length of bandage, doused it in alcohol, and began slowly to clean around the wound. The boy didn’t stir, although his breath seemed to be coming back to him, his chest rising and falling at a steady pace. When Jim had washed away as much of the blood as he could, he did his best to ignore the oddly up quirked eyebrows and quickly began creating a dressing. Pushing aside the boy's hair to properly wrap the wound, Jim let his eyes skim over pointed ears. The wound seemed to have slowed it’s bleeding, a little less than an inch long gash, Jim was hopeful he wouldn’t have to try stitching. 

Jim finished taping the bandages, hands steady as they smoothed out the wrinkles. Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Jim sat, back to the fire, and tried to focus on his breathing. He had done what he could for the night, the boy would probably be passed out till morning with that much blood loss. If he wasn’t awake by then, then it was time for the hospital. Jim would have to be careful not to give his name, wouldn’t be able to stick around long to see how things went for the guy. It would cut a lot of time into his travel schedule, at least a day and a half. Wearily, Jim rubbed his hands down his jeans, and streaks of dark green ingrained themselves in the denim. 

Without much warning the boy’s eyes flew open, and a horrible wracking gasp ripped itself from his lungs as he sprang forward on the mattress. Swinging his head from side to side in panic, the boy’s wild and startled eyes locked immediately onto Jim. Jim stiffened, not willing to move, not wanting to seem imposing by standing now. The boy’s breathing was rapid for a second, like a child trying to collect breath after a long, hard cry. For the briefest of moments, Jim sensed deep animalistic panic, so very human that he could almost forget the blood, and the eyebrows and the ears. And then it was gone, replaced instead by what Jim could only describe as analytical apathy. The boy’s breathing had slowed to such a degree, so fast, it seemed he had just woken calmly from a nap.They stared at each other silently, both fascinated by the other. 

“Where am I?” the boy asked, so matter of factly, so unconcerned, that Jim was taken aback again. He blinked once, twice and still no words would come to him. After a moment of this slack jawed silence, the boy tilted his head delicately to the side.

“I apologize I assumed by your appearance that your primary language was English. Was ist mit Deutsch? Français? Suomalainen? Pусский? Espa-” 

“Minnesota, we’re in Minnesota right now,” Jim said, cutting off the next few languages he was sure were about to spew from the boy’s mouth. He nodded his head, his eyes flitting briefly to the sky. He seemed to be contemplating something until he looked back to Jim with a sense of determination.

“How far is San Francisco, California?” 

“San Fran- we’re uh, about five states away from California,” Jim said, feeling off center and very unsure of the route the conversation was taking him. 

“That is- not as I had planned,” the boy spoke softly. Suddenly his eyes alight upon the bandages still clutched tight in Jim’s hand. 

“It seems I must thank you for your help in dressing my wounds, but I would most appreciate it if you returned me to my shuttle,” the boy said, briefly letting his fingers flutter over the bandage before letting them drop back into his lap. 

“I don’t- think that’s a good idea,” Jim said haltingly, voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, and tried to school his face, as the boy tried to rise on unsteady feet. He failed and collapsed back on the mattress, and the color in his cheeks flushed a darker color. With a huff of what could only be described as frustration, the boy looked back at Jim stonily.

“I was not supposed to be seen, it is unfortunate you had to witness my landing, but I can assure you, returning me to my ship would be your best course of action.”

“Yeah well, I’m not really known for taking the best course of action,” Jim muttered, standing up as nervous energy overtook him. The other boy did not startle but simply watched as Jim paced around the fire. 

“Why do you need to get to California?” Jim stopped suddenly, turning back to the mattress and its occupant. The other boy stared searchingly for a moment before he dropped his gaze to his lap.

“I am looking for Amanda Grayson,” the boy said quietly, just loud enough that Jim could barely hear it over the crackle of the flames behind him.

“And what’s her deal huh? Why are you looking for her?” Jim asked, and he knew his voice was sounding sharp, but he couldn’t help it. The adrenaline from before was wearing off. Certain facts of his new guests' appearance were starting to take hold.

“She is my mother,” the boy said carefully, and Jim dropped his crossed arms in surprise.

“You’re human?” Jim blurted out unthinkingly, letting out his first acknowledgment of the elephant in the room. The boy looked up at him sharply, not in anger exactly, but a very intense nothing. When he spoke, his voice was no longer so quiet.

“Only partially, but I am sure you were aware of that already.” 

“Yeah, yeah I guess I was,” Jim said warily, nodding his head like some kind of broken bobblehead, and slowly he sank back down onto the ground. 

“I have not met her before,” the boy said after a moment of still silence, and Jim looked up in surprise. The other boy was not looking at him, but staring deeply into the dying flames of the fire. A burnished red glow was illuminating his face in a way that made him look a bit more human.

“Your ship's busted kid, there’s nothing I can do about that,” Jim responded finally, grabbing a nearby stick to stoke the flames. It was still cold as all Hell out, and Jim wasn’t letting some pretty lighting ruin a good fire.

“There are other means of transportation then. The vehicle over there could take me to California,” the boy pointed towards the truck, and Jim shook his head as quickly as he could.

“ _No_ , no that ‘vehicle’ has one destination and it is not San Francisco.”

“And where is its destination?”

“You ever heard of Canada?” Jim asked wryly, but the other boy simply nodded his head.

“It was not part of my original research but I am aware of the northern reaches of North America. It has a much colder climate and is not as densely populated as the United States. Its native species are the Moose, Striped Skunk, El-”

“Alright, okay, no need for a geography lesson Dilton Doiley. So I’m headed to Canada, which, I’m going to guess, you already know California is way out of my way,” Jim said, cutting off the obvious recitation. The other boy looked at him, steady and unfazed.

“Then it appears I am at a loss.”

Jim could already feel guilt bubbling in his stomach, and with a groan, he tilted his head back. He couldn’t drive the guy to California, Jim was running on borrowed time already and he was so close. So very close.

“Listen, I can’t- I can’t drive you all the way, but there’s a town 30 miles from here. I can drive you there and you could charter a bus, or a couple dozen if you really have your heart set on San Fran,” Jim said, scrubbing at his face in agitation. He watched as the other boy looked silently up at the stars, and then-

“I do not know where else I would have a place to go,” he said it so simply, so honestly that for a moment Jim was unsure how to respond. 

“Alright, okay- well, I’d say I at least deserve a name now,” Jim said, and after another moment of quiet, the other boy complied. 

“Spock, my name is Spock.” 

Jim nodded his head once, and let the smallest of smiles flit across his face.

“Okay, Spock, my name’s Jim. Jim Kirk.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Jim isn’t sure how he fell asleep that night. What he does know for sure, was that Spock was awake when he went under. The fire had been dying and Jim had been trying to figure a way to surreptitiously swing back to Ely without anyone in the town noticing. He figured they’d have to leave early the next morning, the crack of dawn at least but they’d be able to make the 7:30 greyhound. Spock had stayed quiet, watching over Jim’s shoulder, still as a statue, and it had been both parts unnerving and comforting. There were no pestering questions, no pleading for more than what Jim had promised. He had simply been there, and Jim had not had that steady of a presence in quite a while.

The alien thing was still on the back burner of Jim’s mind of course. It’s not that he didn’t know who he was dealing with, or the fact he could possibly be going insane, but for then, to Jim at least, Spock was just like anybody else. He needed help, and he’d asked Jim, so Jim would do what he could. Fallen spacecraft be damned. 

That had all been the night before, and now Jim was being awoken by the sound of soft bird song. 

He sprung up, heart pounding in panic, the chill morning air stinging his cheeks. Across from his rumpled position, the mattress lay empty, devoid of any living thing, alien or otherwise. Jim stared wide eyed for a moment, his still awakening mind trying to comprehend what was in front of him. Spock was gone, which could mean Spock had never been there at all. It could mean that Jim really could have dreamed him up. 

Except, there near the mattress lay dirtied rags, stained a dark green. Dried blood. Dried  _ alien  _ blood.

Standing carefully Jim took a few steps toward the mattress, looking for any signs of where he could have gone. The ground was frozen, so the chance of footprints being left behind were less than likely. Jim wasn’t going to let himself panic just yet. It wasn’t like Spock had promised to stick around. Maybe he’d decided to walk to town- a terrible idea, but maybe he had. And Jim didn’t need to worry because this  _ kid _ wasn’t his responsibility.

A quiet shuffling behind Jim made him startle and spin around. Spock was standing tall, angular features shadowed in weak light, looking all the more foreign because of it. A bag of insurmountable size was being dragged across the ground, leaving a deep impression through the loose dirt of the forest floor. Spock stopped when he noticed Jim’s startled movement, and dropped the handle of his cargo.

“Are you prepared to depart now?” Spock asked, as if he hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of Jim. 

“Spock! You can’t just- while you’re with me it would be best if you stayed close,” Jim said, reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“I apologize Jim, I only meant to collect what I could from my ship. You were correct in your assessment at it’s- inability to fly,” Spock said evenly, bowing his head slightly along with his apology, and Jim quickly raised his hand in mock surrender.

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have- it’s okay,” Jim said with a sigh, and rubbed distractedly at the sleep in his eyes. Spock nodded, lips drawn into a thin line, which to Jim looked like hesitancy to speak. Jim wasn’t going to push him, so in an effort to get them ready for travel Jim began packing away the mattress. After a moment of silence Spock finally stepped forward to address him.

“I would like to thank you again, Jim. I had assumed- I suppose I thought I would be met with more force given my appearance.”

“Well I guess you're lucky on that front Spock. We have a whole country full of soldiers- I just happen to be more of a lover than a fighter,” Jim said, not letting his eyes leave the work in front of him, adjusting the ropes tethering the mattress to the truck bed. Jim considered for a moment, if he should have been so open, but it wasn’t like Spock would understand. Who knew how far his data collecting went, did it stop at geography and zoology? Did his knowledge carry over into extensive anthropological research?

Shaking his head to dissipate his scattered thoughts, Jim let go of the ropes and turned back to Spock.

“Did you- sleep last night?” Jim asked, awkwardly trying his hand at politeness as he watched Spock pick up the dropped handle of his very large bag.

“In a sense, I suppose I did,” Spock replied, continuing his mission of dragging his duffle bag over to the truck. Jim frowned at the answer and ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

“Alright well, put that in the truck bed and I guess we’ll be on our way,” Jim said finally, giving up on wondering if he should push for a less vague answer. 

Spock abided and swung his bag up and over, adjusting so he could shift it under the canvas. Without another word he yanked open the truck door, and carefully placed himself inside. With a sigh, Jim made his way around to the driver side door and turned the key in the ignition. The truck roared to life, it’s headlights casting long paths of light into the dim forest, and Jim turned himself around to drive them out. Spock watched, curiosity evident in his gleaming eyes as Jim maneuvered the vehicle out of the woods and out onto the long, empty country road. Jim watched forlornly as the trail to freedom stretched farther and farther behind him in the rearview mirror.

As Jim drove he stared dazedly at the sun as it rose over the hills. The sky was bursting with red and orange, and in any other circumstance he would have found it pretty, beautiful even. It seemed, however, that the night's occurrences were finally catching up with him. His joints ached from the long exposure to the cold, doubled by his night of restless uncomfortable sleep on the frozen forest floor. His eyes stung and he rubbed at them incessantly as the sun rose ever higher, casting golden light through the trees.

As the light continued to pour into the truck, Jim took his eyes off the road a moment in an effort to adjust his vision. He glanced Spock’s way as he did so, and as his eyes scanned the other boy a thought occurred to him, one so obvious now Jim nearly stopped the truck where they were. 

Ely was a small town, a small enough town where people were always prone to talking. There was no way in hell Spock would make it five steps out of the truck without raising some red flags. They needed a plan, and Spock needed a disguise. Thinking back to his drive the night before, Jim made a slight adjustment to his directions, and in the next fifteen minutes or so he was pulling his truck into a tiny dimly lit parking lot. 

“Have we arrived?” Spock asked, peering out the passenger side window with interest. 

“No, this is a rest stop,” Jim said, turning the key in the ignition, 

“Do you require rest  _ again _ ?” Spock questioned, one dark, slanted eyebrow raising to a surprising degree. For a moment Jim had to fight back the urge to laugh at the baffled look, but he quickly bit it back to reply seriously.

“No it’s not- they’re bathrooms and stuff- I was just thinking, you won’t want to walk around in rags like that for the rest of your trip.I have some extra clothes in the back,” Jim said with a shrug, and then threw open his door. Without removing the tarp completely Jim began to rifle through his things, finding a worn pair of jeans, a slightly moth-eaten sweater, and after a moment more digging a large, blue sun bleached baseball cap. With all of this bundled in his arms Jim walked the other way around the truck and knocked on Spock’s window. Spock looked out at him for a moment, waited as Jim took a step back, and then slowly opened his door. 

He eyed the clothes skeptically for a moment, the hat in particular, but when Jim motioned for him to take them he did without complaint. 

“Come on, there should be bathrooms inside,” Jim said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the rest stop and Spock nodded solemnly. The parking lot was mostly deserted at this time in the morning, besides one large semi truck in the farther back lot. Jim walked steadily forward but he could feel a slight imbalance in Spock next to him, a wobble in his step, and Jim told himself once they started cleaning him up he’d check to see what other injury was being hidden from him. A sprained ankle, busted knee, hell another bleeding wound for all that Spock seemed to let pain affect him.

The rest stop interior was devoid of human life, and Jim let out a slight sigh of relief before ushering Spock to the left towards the men’s bathrooms. Spock seemed unperturbed by Jim rushing him, simply raising an eyebrow as Jim quickly closed the door behind them, leaning his back up against it in case of any unexpected intrusion. 

Spock looked at him curiously, then to the clothes in his hands. Carefully he laid them out at the sink, and slowly began to disrobe. Before Jim could get a word in edgewise, the odd half robe had already been removed. There were indeed several deep bruises and cuts scattered across his chest, each a shiny purple and yellow. Before Jim could be mortified his instincts kicked in. 

“Shit Spock, are there any other injuries you’ve been hiding under those robes?” Jim asked, taking a step closer to inspect how deep the injuries really ran. Spock stilled and glanced down casually at his bare torso, but no alarm appeared on his face.

“This is the extent of my injuries, besides what I believe to be a minor sprain of my ankle. There is no need for concern, however. Another few nights of rest and I should be completely healed,” Spock spoke quickly and analytically as he turned himself away from Jim, and to his reflection in the mirror. Carefully, without another glance in Jim’s direction he adjusted his hair into a more neat set, and then grabbed the sweater Jim had given him. Seeing as Jim’s concern was only going to be brushed to the side again, he turned away quickly as Spock removed the rest of his robe-like attire in an effort to put on the jeans. 

“So, what? Can you heal faster than- '' Jim stopped as the word  _ normal  _ was about to leave his mouth and quickly adjusted his question, “Than people like me?” 

There was a pause in the ruffling of clothing behind Jim, and then slowly, Spock answered. “I have not collected enough information on cell growth and regeneration in humans to be certain.”

“Oh,” Jim said anticlimactically, using the toe of his shoe to draw invisible circles on the bathroom’s tiled floor. Spock stayed quiet after that, and Jim kept his mouth shut.

“I am finished changing,” Spock finally said, and Jim turned around quickly to make sure no adjustments needed to be made. Besides the baseball cap which was still sitting untouched on the sink’s edge, the rest of the clothes seemed to fit Spock well enough. He was apparently a little longer than Jim in the arms and legs, as both the cuffs of the jeans and the sweater were a good three inches from their respective placements. Green blood still stained half of Spock’s face, sticky and dark and Jim made a few aborted steps to the side to rip out several sheets of disposable paper towels. 

“You don’t mind if I help you clean your face up right?” Jim asked, glancing out the side of his eye at Spock as he bunched up a wad of the paper and ran it under one of the sinks lining the wall. Spock’s eyebrows rose high, but at Jim’s look, they fell back quickly. That seemed like a clear sign of alarm to Jim.

“There is no logical reason to object,” Spock said haltingly, and Jim stopped the faucet turning his full attention to the other boy.

“If you’re not comfortable with me doing it, that’s fine, doesn’t need to be logical,” Jim said carefully holding out the damp paper towels. Spock stared down at his hand questioningly, his mouth parted slightly as if he had more to say, more to explain. He took them from Jim without saying another word. Jim eyed him carefully, making sure to point any spots Spock managed to miss, but kept his distance. 

Jim was good with people, had always been since he was old enough to know a smile could give him a mile in any negotiation with his mother. He noticed things others rarely did. When Sam failed a history exam in 11th grade, Jim knew. Had seen it in the stilted speech patterns, and tense shoulders as Sam had spoken to their parents at dinner. Jim had never once been surprised by girls in his classes, when they stutteringly admitted to thinking he was cute. He’d seen their crushes in averted eye contact, and blushing cheeks. And Jim could tell, somehow, even without these normal clues of body language and expression, that Spock didn’t like to be touched. 

“That should be good for now Spock, now let’s see how this looks,” Jim said, grabbing the baseball cap and holding it out to Spock. Spock took it, again with only the slightest sign of discomfort, and placed it on his head. Just as Jim had hoped the pointed tips of Spock’s ears were easily hidden, and Jim smiled wide as they disappeared under the cap.

Now, besides the bulky bandage on his forehead, Spock looked like any other teenage boy. Spock himself was staring, not exactly surprised at his reflection, but appraisingly. 

“This is-  _ human _ enough?” Spock finally asked, touching the mirror in front of him gently, fingertips just barely brushing the glass. Jim let himself, just for a moment, watch the smooth lines of Spock’s face, the dark glittering eyes, the softly rounded end of his nose.

“Yeah, no one could tell the difference,” Jim said quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets, and dropping his head at the sudden rush of heat to his face. 

He was overwhelmed and sleep-deprived. It was nothing.

“We should head out now, don’t want to miss that bus,” Jim said gruffly, grabbing up Spock's discarded clothing hastily. 

**~~~**

“It’s not a lot, I’m not exactly raking in the dough right now, but it’ll buy you a bus ticket and lunch. I’m sorry I can’t do more,” Jim said, regret pouring into his voice as he handed over the cash. Spock took it carefully, studying the bills with the analytical eye of a scholar. 

They were standing alone, in the glass bottle factory parking lot, just across the road from the bus station. Jim didn’t know why he felt nervousness gripping him, but he wanted simultaneously to have this exchange be over quickly and to never end.

“What you have done for me has been more than enough Jim,” Spock said softly, hitching his bag a little higher on his shoulder. Jim nodded and rubbed the back of his neck self consciously. The building that housed the ticket counter and indoor waiting area for the bus station stood nearly completely empty, and Jim fought the urge to keep his feet planted right where he was.

“Look just- don’t talk to anybody, don’t bring attention to yourself. If you do that, you should be fine,” Jim said with a sigh, and Spock nodded solemnly. Spock’s right hand rose suddenly, as if about to wave goodbye, but apparently, thinking better of it, he dropped it to his side.

“Goodbye Jim,” Spock nodded, and Jim gave a small smile before Spock hitched his bag a little higher once more and then turned on his heel. His pace was even, and despite his sprained ankle, he walked tall to the doors of the interior of the bus station. 

With effort, Jim tore his eyes away from the retreating figure and took a careful step back. Once he’d made the first move the next few steps weren’t so hard, and before he knew it he’d sat himself down inside his truck. 

He stared down at the keys in his hand, and then back out the windshield at the bus station. He could just barely see Spock through the windows of the station, alone and very small looking and Jim decided then and there it wouldn’t hurt anybody if he waited to watch him board his bus. 

Jim watched carefully as Spock adjusted his baseball cap, and laid his bag down near a bench after purchasing a ticket. The scant crowds were beginning to pour into the bus station, but Jim kept his eyes on Spock, an immovable stone in a rushing river. Jim leaned back in his seat, tilting his head to lean against the headrest. 

He really hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep, couldn’t have. He’d been restless with dreams, nightmares more like, and Spock’s crash landing hadn’t increased his chances of a full eight hours. Blinking away the sting of sleep, he sighed and turned his attention back to the station. The bus wouldn’t be arriving for another twenty or so minutes so Spock would still have-

Jim sat up, his back straightening into a taut line. The bench Spock had procured was empty, bag gone. His bus hadn’t arrived yet, so where had he gone? Uneasy panic was clinging to Jim, and after a moment's hesitancy, he slipped from the truck. 

He pushed through the doors of the station with a little too much force and the people who had managed to make it up for the early morning bus whipped around to look at him. Keeping his head low now, Jim began searching for any blind spots he may have had from his spot in the truck. Still Jim could not pick out anyone with a blue baseball cap. 

Spock was gone, and for some reason, that was putting Jim’s teeth on edge.

A couple of men dressed to the nines, most likely headed into the city for job interviews, a lady with a large suitcase and a basket of knitting supplies, and someone Jim assumed to be part of the custodial staff. But again no blue baseball cap in sight.

Jim pulled anxiously at the hair at the back of his head, trying to keep his breathing even. There was no need to get so worked up, Spock had just, had just- Jim’s eyes focused suddenly on the custodial worker.

The guy Jim had previously overlooked, was staring hard at him. His features weren’t striking by any means, but it was the work cap tucked carefully over his ears that had Jim doubting the man's profession. Before Jim could take a step in his direction, another similarly dressed man appeared behind the other. Something silvery flashed in his hand before he pulled the taller man away. Jim could nearly feel the sharp gaze slither off of him, and once he was sure he wasn’t being watched Jim took off through the doors of the station. 

Somehow, Jim knew those men weren’t human. If they weren’t human, they had to be connected to Spock. If Spock was gone- that meant they were bad news. Pushing out through the doors of the station, Jim barely felt the chill hit him as he thought over his next steps. Spock couldn’t have gotten far on foot in so little time. 

Before Jim could even start to look for his vehicle again, someone was barreling into him from behind. Instinctively Jim struck out, but was met with something much tougher than the normal human. He let out a slight yelp, as his attacker pushed him again.

“Jim you need to move,” Spock said, blasé as ever as he continued to push them closer to the parking lot. Jim nearly sighed in relief, before he planted his heels hard. Spock did not stumble, but he let go of Jim’s arm in surprise.

“Spock, what the  _ Hell _ ?” Jim asked, pulling away.

“Time is of the essence, it is imperative we find cover,” Spock warned, pushing again, and Jim who while known to be stubborn could sense the urgency just fine. He sent a harsh look in Spock’s direction, and let himself be shoved into hiding behind a truly hideous station wagon.

Just as they’d managed to conceal themselves behind the vehicle, the men Jim had seen previously, exited the doors of the interior waiting area. Jim watched them carefully through the window of the car, as the shorter one removed an object from his pocket. Again, Jim saw a flash of something metallic, but for the life of him he couldn’t discern what exactly it was in the man’s hands. The shorter of the two motioned his partner in the opposite direction as they both began stalking the parking lot. 

“Who are those guys?” Jim snapped, voice low but hard, turning to Spock once the men had turned their attention the other way. Spock for all it was worth, didn’t seem too put off by being on the wrong end of Jim’s ire. 

“Romulans,” Spock stated matter of factly, as the shorter of the men began a steady march across the bus terminal. He was heading straight for them, and Jim held tight to Spock’s arm as he surreptitiously dragged them under the carriage of the car to their left.

“And you're  _ not _ I’m guessing?” Jim hissed, trying to get his heart beat under control. He could not panic. 

“No, I’m  _ Vuhlkansu _ ,” Spock said, voice only slightly lowered and Jim put a hand over his mouth as the Romulan’s marching feet got closer. Spock flinched under his touch, just the slightest movement, but Jim didn’t have the time to feel bad as shiny almost metallic looking boots stopped two cars down from them. As the boots paused Jim strained his ears to listen for anything.

There was a click, and then the faint sound of whirring. To Jim this meant nothing, but before he could try and decipher the noise’s meaning Spock was the one pulling at him to move. Jim quickly adjusted, rolling out from under the car with ease, and pushing himself up into a crouch as Spock carefully peered from behind their hiding spot.

Once he’d seen what he was looking for, Spock grabbed his hand and they were off. Jim stumbled only slightly at the sudden movement and tried his best not to turn around. The explosion behind him didn’t help that little endeavor, however. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” was the last thing to leave Jim’s mouth before both he and Spock were thrown several feet, both of them landing hard on their knees. While Jim was still reeling from the shock, Spock did not hesitate as he clambered to his feet. With inhuman strength, he lifted Jim off the ground and back into a standing position. Jim chanced a glance back and saw the Romulan from before, one hand raised, gripping something that looked too much like a gun to be safe. 

“Move Jim,” Spock urged, and Jim did not need to be told twice as the Romulan took aim once more. Jim could feel the pain from his scraped knees begin to fade as the adrenaline kicked in, and he and Spock sped their way into town like two mad men on a mission. 

“Is there anywhere we could potentially conceal ourselves?” Spock asked haltingly, breaking his stride to make a zigzag in another direction. Jim skidded and corrected his course as well, his pulse beating a steady thrum in his ears.

The streets were empty this early in the morning, but Jim could still see tired and confused faces peering out of windows into the street. The bus station was in the middle of the residential area, and Jim cursed how spread out everything was. Jim was sure those left inside the bus station were far enough away from the blast to have been safe, but anger still flared in his chest at the thought. He grabbed at Spock’s hand, and without much warning took off towards downtown.

“Uh- make a left up there, see that sign that says O'Malley's, yes  _ there _ ,” Jim barked, taking the lead once more, hand in Spock’s as he dragged them around a corner. Another explosion rang out behind them, and Jim tried his best not to imagine the damage this little town must be experiencing because of his shit decision making skills. 

“Okay, another left, at the end here, and then, up there,” Jim said pointing up at the fire escape connected to the flower boutique. Not hearing the sound of marching boots behind them anymore, Jim ushered Spock up the fire escape, feeling his body thrum with excess adrenaline. 

The noises on the street were getting fainter, people were yelling, but Jim could not tell if it was out of pain or general upset at the destruction. Neither was a very good option.

Jim followed closely behind Spock and helped him shove his canvas bag over the side of the roof once they made it to the top of the escape.

“I apologize, Jim, I did not believe they would use such- force in an effort to capture me,” Spock whispered, shoving off his bulky canvas bag and laying it in the ground in front of them.

“Why exactly did you  _ not  _ think it necessary to mention the aliens with  _ laser guns after _ you?” Jim snapped, half collapsing to his knees, feeling the sting on them from his previous fall. 

“I did not want to alarm you. You seemed to be oddly calm about my appearance, and it seemed logical to think the addition of hostile Romulan scouts would make you less amenable to my needs,” Spock still whispering, said, hands shaking as he dug farther into his bag. Jim glanced over the ledge of the building, still seeing no sign of the two men, but feeling panic coursing through his veins like a drug nonetheless.

“Yes  _ Spock _ , it would have. What do they even  _ want _ with you?”

“It is possible they are- upset over the breaking of Earth’s no fly zone policy,” Spock intoned, finally revealing something, not unlike the weapon the Romulan soldier had been carrying. 

“How did they not find you sooner?” Jim asked, eyeing the device in Spock’s hand wearily, again checking over the roof’s edge for any sign of trouble. 

“I ejected my ship's tracking beacon, as well as it’s black box before landing. They should have landed several hundred miles from my actual location. It seems that that endeavor did not go quite as well as I had hoped though,” Spock said, adjusting something on his device. 

“So what now? We live up on this roof?” Jim asked, scooting closer down to be at Spock’s level. Spock did not look to him, instead focusing on preparing his weapon.

“Come on Spock, what’s our plan here?” Jim tried again, letting his hand rest tentatively on the other boy's shoulder. Spock stopped, eyes briefly drifting to the hand on him, and then suddenly with a deep breath he stood from hiding.

''We need to get back to your vehicle- If we put enough space between us and them we have an 89.56% chance of outrunning them completely,” Spock said calmly, holding his weapon at his side, knuckles tight on the hilt, and finger poised on the trigger.

“But how does that stop them from finding you again?”

“I can only assume they guessed well to find me here. They have no prior knowledge of my plans to reach California,” Spock stated calmly, marching towards the fire escape again, eyes sharp and calculating as scanned the ground below.

“Okay, okay say that works- what about the people here. I know them- they’re good people we can’t just leave them to be blown up,” Jim snapped, stepping in front of Spock before he could descend the steps. Spock stopped, one eyebrow-raising quizzically like Jim was being somehow unreasonable.

“They have no qualms with your people Jim- They are here to right a wrong they feel I have committed. Once I leave they will as well,” Spock said firmly. Jim stared him down a moment longer, but he could sense to ill will or distrust in the river boy. 

“Alright- okay, any tips on avoiding getting killed then?” Jim asked with a shake of his head a small smile playing at his lips, which Spock only stared at.

“Do not let yourself be hit. It would be a painful way to go,” Spock finally answered, and with that he moved past Jim to the stairs. With a sigh, Jim followed, keeping himself close to the wall to make sure his eyes stayed on the defensive. 

The Romulans must have taken some wrong turns because it isn’t until Spock and Jim reach the main street that they spot the two men again.

The downtown had cleared completely of people by this point, but in the distance, Jim could hear firefighter sirens wailing. The two Romulans were scouting the perimeter of the shops on St. Vincent Avenue, and Jim had to keep his fear in check as he and Spock rounded the corner. 

The way back to the bus station, and Jim’s truck were blocked by the Romulan’s but they have their cover to work with at least. If they weren’t seen, they couldn’t be caught.

“We need some kind of distraction,” Jim whispered, and Spock nodded silently, raising his arm steadily. Before Jim could get a chance to react, Spock had quickly pulled the trigger of the small gun, and a concussive blast hit the shop across the street from the Romulans. Both of the men hit the ground hard, as the glass from the windows flew out and shattered on the sidewalks. Fire bloomed and seeing no better opening, Jim grabbed Spock’s open hand and took off.

As they passed the blazing fire, Jim could hear the groans of the two downed Romulans, but he paid no attention to them as his feet picked up a rhythm. Never in his life had Jim been filled with so much adrenaline in such a short span of time. 

Spock pulled ahead of him easily, leading them farther and farther away from the center of the town. Slowly they started to pass bewildered citizens, clinging tightly to their doorways, in morning robes, with faces of awe and fear. 

Shouts from behind them only made Jim pause for a second, but before he could turn to look Spock pulled him hard and he stumbled back to face their running direction. 

As they reached the parking lot they passed several emergency vehicles, too wrapped up in the leftover bits of the explosion caused by the Romulan soldier to pay any notice to two boys running by. 

Jim’s truck had thankfully been on the far end of the parking lot and without a beat, Jim was throwing himself into the driver's seat and revving the engine as Spock sprang into his seat right beside.

They tore out of the parking lot without much more fanfare. 

**~~~**

As they put distance between themselves and the town of Virgina, Jim finally had time to breathe. He also had plenty of time to think. As Spock studied the road map next to him in contemplative silence, Jim thought long and hard about the events of the day. 

The Minnesota countryside sped by, but Jim could barely pay attention, enough to stay on course to Grand Forks, but his mind was whirring with ideas. 

It was true that Jim had only just met Spock. And as wild as that was on its own, he’d also just risked his life to escape another set of violent aliens. Aliens. Space invaders, with laser guns, and green blood. All of this was undeniable. It had all happened to him, and for all good reasons, he should be getting the Hell outta dodge. 

But one other undeniable thing that Jim simply couldn’t shake loose, was that he and Spock had this- connection. Hell, Jim wouldn’t be able to explain it with years of pondering, and especially not now. But he’d known it the moment they’d locked eyes as Spock had stepped from his burning ship. Spock and he were connected, and Jim wanted to know why.

“I estimate we will be coming upon Grand Forks’s bus station in 5.67 minutes. It will appear on-” Spock paused leaning farther over his map, “-your left.”

Jim nodded dazedly, hands tight on the steering wheel. They drove for another 6 minutes.

“Jim I believe you have passed the bus station,” Spock said, as outside the Grand Forks’s bus station blew past. Jim did not look away from the road.

“I know.”

Spock made a soft noise of confusion before shaking his head and saying, “If I am to get the next bus I will need to stop in Grand Forks-”

“I’m driving you Spock,” Jim said, hands tightening on the steering wheel minutely. Spock went silent. 

“To the next bus-?”

“To California,” Jim said, trying to, with just two words, get the message across about his decision. Spock fell silent once again, and after a moment, Jim took his eyes off the road to get a glimpse at his face. 

As always Spock’s expression did not hint at much, but Jim could see, without a shadow of doubt, a happy glimmer in his eyes.

After a moment, a quiet, calm moment Spock spoke again.

“If you require a rest stop one will be appearing in approximately 34.79 minutes _ ,”  _ The words thought mundane in nature, held a certain reverence in the tone that had the tips of Jim’s ears flaring red. 

“I hope you don’t mind music Spock, because I’m a big rock fan,” Jim said quickly, turning his face away to focus on the radio dials in front of him. 

“I fail to see the connection geology has with music,” Spock said carefully watching intently, the radio spitting static as Jim searched for a station. Jim laughed in surprise, briefly letting his eyes wander back to Spock’s puzzled face. 

“It looks like you have a lot to teach you about Earth culture buddy,” Jim said with a grin, and with that, the radio crackled to life as Jim finally found a viable station.

As the truck sped past Grand Forks Town limits the starting chords of a new Beatles song played out, Jim smiled wide and for the first time in a long time, he did not feel a weight on his chest. 

_ I was alone, I took a ride _

_ I didn't know what I would find there _

_ Another road where maybe I _

_ Could see another kind of mind there _


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t sweltering out, not even close, but the afternoon sun was still sinking its rays into Jim's exposed neck. He could feel his skin burning as he leaned over the truck's engine, trying to ignore it in favor of figuring out what the hell he was going to do. 

They'd made it a good day and a half driving, before the truck had given out and Jim cursed himself for not realizing that it had been bound to happen at some point. It was an old truck, one his dad had bought second hand before even Jim was born. It was held together by sheer force of will, and lots of scrap metal. 

It wasn't like Jim didn't know his way around an engine, or cars in general but this was- it was beyond his capability. Not to mention he felt more and more exposed the longer they were stuck on the side of the road. While Spock had been adamant the Romulans would have no way of knowing their movements, Jim wasn't going to relax just because something was supposed to be impossible. Lots of impossible things had happened to him in the last couple of days. Impossible was no longer an impossibility. 

"Jim if I could assist?" Spock asked, appearing by his side suddenly, and Jim jumped in shock and consequently hit his head against the roof of the engine hood.

" _ Shit _ ," Jim snapped, rubbing at the sharp pain, and Spock took a careful step back as Jim let out a few more expletives. 

"I apologize, I thought you were aware of my presence," Spock said, and Jim waved him off, giving his scalp one more tender rub before reaching to collapse the hood.

"It's no problem Spock, but I think I'm calling it quits. Our radiator is completely shot, we need a new one. Unless you can materialize objects I don't think you can help much," Jim said with a sigh, wiping a smear of oil off his hands and onto his already dirtied jeans. Spock nodded thoughtfully, and Jim watched as he picked unconsciously at the ends of his sleeves. 

“I feel somewhat responsible for this occurrence I apologize," Spock said, and Jim 's eyes widened in surprise. Shaking his head, Jim motioned for Spock to follow him.

"It’s no trouble Spock, it was bound to give out at some point. The important thing is that we get help, I think I saw a sign a couple of miles back about a town close by. We can check the map and see if we can get a tow truck," Jim said, walking around to the driver's side door, to collect his dropped canvas jacket. 

“It appears it will take us approximately 2.67 hours to reach the town of Dupree,” Spock said, appearing again at Jim’s side with the map held aloft. Jim checked it himself and with a tired sigh, he grabbed his water canteen from inside the truck.

“Looks like it’s going to be a long walk.”

The sun was shining bright and unforgiving above them as they set out on foot, hoping the truck would be left without much trouble on the empty country road. There wasn't much beyond carefully tilled fields, and patches of forested areas to keep Jim's attention, but it was nothing new to him. At a glance, the landscape may have very easily been the flat plains of Iowa, and Jim tried to stop the keening feeling of homesickness clawing at his chest. It felt too much like home.

The two hours were passed in silence, as had the drive up till this point. Jim was stuck. He didn’t know what to say to Spock, or how he should be feeling and reacting to this whole situation. What was he supposed to talk about with an alien? There were at once too many things to ask, and too many things Jim felt he shouldn’t. The problem being Jim did not feel capable of telling the difference between the two. 

How touchy of a subject was Spock’s home planet? His culture and his people? Could Jim ask about them, and if he instead drove all conversations towards Earth, would Spock see through him? Or would he feel like Jim was trying purposefully to draw a line highlighting their differences? There was simply too much for Jim to think about, so instead, he watched as the sun crossed the sky, shifting and stretching the shadows on the ground into monstrous and foreign shapes. 

By the time they finally reached Dupree Jim’s feet ached something terrible, and he just about collapsed at the first sign of habitable living. Spock didn’t seem any worse for wear, his stride just as even and upright as the first few minutes of their journey. Jim envied him just the tiniest bit. Or maybe a lot.

The first thing they came upon was the town's gas pump, a dingy little place, with apparently only one working pump, and a small store that had clearly seen better days. Outside lounging on the porch was an older gentleman, and making sure Spock stayed back, Jim approached him to ask for directions for the town's tow truck and auto shop.

“Just down the road there, can’t miss it,” the man said smiling kindly, the wrinkles on his face doubling, and Jim gave him a friendly wave, and  _ thank you _ in return. Spock and he trudged on, and Jim tried to remember what it was like to have feet that didn’t ache with each step and was having a hard time doing so when they finally reached their destination.

The sign above the garage read  _ Montgomery Scott’s Auto Shop  _ in bold curlicue lettering, and Jim gave a small sigh of relief at having been given correct directions. The garage doors were wide open, but Jim was unable to catch sight of anyone working inside. 

“Alright, I’m going to head inside, see if I can find anyone to tow our truck into town, just- wait here okay?”

“Of course,” Spock said, and Jim nodded a few times before turning round to enter the shop. He only looked back once to make sure Spock wasn’t wandering off, and of course, was unsurprised to see him standing obediently at the wide open door to the garage, hands held straight at his sides. Jim forced himself to stop worrying for a second and solve the actual problem on their hands. 

There were no Romulans this time to scare Spock away. He was smart enough to stay put. These thoughts didn’t necessarily stop the twisting in Jim’s gut as he found his way farther into the shop.

Music was playing softly in the far back, and Jim followed it like a light in the dark. At the back, under a beat up looking Ford Falcon, Jim spotted a pair of legs and Jim stopped in front of it, nervously shuffling his feet. After a moment of no recognition of his presence, Jim gave a small cough. There was a low curse, as Jim assumed a head had been hit on the bottom of the car, and then a questioning  _ hello  _ followed.

“Are you Mr. Scott?” Jim asked, trying to keep himself from wringing his hands self consciously. The man under the car suddenly pulled out, his dark hair askew, and eyes alight with curiosity.

“That I would be, but by all means call me Scotty, we don’t deal much with formalities here,” the man said in a surprising Scottish accent, standing quickly, and wiping engine oil off his hand before holding it out for Jim to shake. Jim took it and received a strong grip and rapid hand shake in return.

“My name’s James, it’s nice to make your acquaintance,” Jim said politely, feeling like his arm was going to be vibrated out its socket at any second when Scotty finally let go of his hand.

“And what can I do you for Jim, my boy?” 

“I’ve got a truck, stuck on the outskirts of town, pretty sure the radiators busted,” Jim said, rubbing the back of his neck and Scotty nodded quickly, moving away from Jim to a shelf heavy with dirty rags and misplaced tools. It didn’t look like there was any sort of organization but Scotty immediately pulled a toolkit from the mess. 

“The outskirts of town you said? Near the diner or the gas pump?” Scotty asked, passing Jim and heading for the entrance to the garage. Jim stood stock still for a moment before running off after the man, shocked at the ease of convincing him to help so quickly. 

“The uh- gas pump,” Jim said, catching up with him as he exited out into the sunlit day. Scotty didn’t stop until he caught sight of Spock standing diligently at the entrance, hands now clasped behind his back as he waited patiently. 

“And who might this be?” Scotty asked with a smile, holding out his hand immediately for Spock to shake as well. A wary glance was turned Jim’s way at the surprise, but all Jim could do was shrug.

“This is my friend-  _ Leonard _ ,” Jim spoke fast before Spock even had the chance to open his mouth, and he was given a severe look of confusion before understanding dawned on his face. Scotty smiled wide, still awaiting Spock’s hand, who looked at it blankly before taking it hesitantly. If Jim wasn’t so good at reading Spock there would have been little indication of his discomfort at the act. 

“Alright, well I’ll just have Chuck bring the tow truck around front, I’ll get us over there and back in a jiffy.”

“Who is Chuck?” Spock asked, looking back into the garage for other signs of life. Scotty motioned for them to be quiet for a moment, and then gave a loud shout, and suddenly from the recesses of the auto shop and the adjoining office spaces sprung a boy of no more than fifteen.

As soon as he heard the shout he was racing to the front of the shop, a smile plastered on his face and Jim couldn’t help but stare.

“Jim, Leonard, this is my partner Charles Parker. He doesn’t speak a lick, but he's a damn hard worker,” Scotty said with a grin, throwing his arm over the boy's shoulders, and Jim gave a hesitant smile in return.

“Nice to meet you,” Jim said kindly, holding out his hand and Chuck shook it with an amount of confidence that while not unusual for someone his age, felt strangely unique. With that Scotty gave Chuck’s shoulder a fatherly pat and Jim a thankful looking smile.

“Well, now that formalities are over, Chuck you wouldn’t mind getting the tow truck out back for us would you?”

**~~~**

Scotty pulled away from the truck’s engine with a grimace, and Jim had to bite back a curse at the expression. This was not going to be an easy fix, and Jim had the creeping suspicion it was not going to be a cheap one either. 

"Your radiator is completely kaput laddie, and your engine belt is nearly worn through. I won't be able to fix it today," Scotty said, scratching at his head as he moved over to a desk in the far corner of the garage. Piles of paper and askew tools were placed atop it, and after a moment of searching, Scotty pulled out a clipboard of notes. Jim watched him warily as he ran a finger down the paper, shaking his head as he went.

"Just as I thought, the parts I need are out of stock here- I'll need to order some more," Scotty said with an apologetic frown in Jim's direction.

"And how long will that take?" Jim asked, not really wanting to know the answer. A special order in a town this far in the middle of nowhere had to be expensive. Jim didn't have enough money for any of this.

"A week, maybe two. I may need to call around- this is an old model, older than I'm used to dealing with I'm afraid," Scotty said, moving back over to the truck placing a hand tenderly on the hood.

"Does it matter, the age of the parts I mean, can't you switch some stuff out, use newer pieces with it?" Jim asked pleadingly, and he could see Scotty's expression shifting to thoughtful consideration.

"Aye, I suppose I could play around with something like that, but the price would have to go up," Scotty agreed, somewhat apologetically. Jim nodded his head several times, thinking about the fifty dollars left in his wallet, and if that would cover a motel room, food, and the truck for a week. 

"How much?" Jim asked carefully, looking at the wrecked interior of his engine mournfully.

"The lowest I can go is $150 laddie, and that's lowballing it for certain," Scotty said, with a sympathetic shrug, and Jim let his shoulders slump in dismay.

"I can't- what if you didn't fix everything? Just enough that I could drive it," Jim tried, running a hand down his face, and Scotty looked at him with pity.

"Have you ever worked in an auto shop before?" Scotty asked slowly, shifting his eyes to look back down at his clipboard of ordered parts, and Jim's eyes widened in surprise.

"I know my way around an engine if that's what you're asking," Jim said quickly, "I can change the oil, fix tires, and I'm sure with a little guidance I could do any grunt work." Scotty nodded slowly, and then with a sigh, he held his hand out to Jim.

"Well then, I suppose you've got yourself a deal James. You lend a helping hand, and I’ll get this truck in working order again. Now I expect a good week's work out of ya, no slacking or anything like that. Good honest work in exchange for good honest work," Scotty said, eyes glinting and expression resolute, and Jim grinned as he grabbed onto his hand to shake it vigorously. Another thought struck him just as they parted.

"Ah, but my friend," Jim said sheepishly, glancing in the direction of Spock, who was studiously conferring over a table of blueprints with Chuck. They didn't seem to be talking, but both of them were obviously very invested in what they were looking at. Scotty looked over as well, curious, and as his eyes lit upon Spock a flash of an idea sparked in his eyes.

"Your friend can help Chuck with organizing my accounts- he any good at mathematics?" Scotty asked, at a second thought and Jim unthinkingly nodded his head quickly. Truly he had no idea if Spock was any good, but he assumed from what he'd gleaned of Spock’s alien culture, science was held in high esteem. Scotty nodded thoughtfully along, watching as Spock pointed out something to the younger boy, who looked down at his work, nodded furiously, and began scribbling over what he'd already completed.

"You know Chuck’s a right genius when it comes to numbers. He increased my revenue by ten-fold last year, and in a town this small I have to say it was by some miracle," Scotty said, staring fondly at the boy, as they approached the workspace together.

Chuck raised his head at the approach, and smiled broadly at Scotty, shifting the paper over so he could take a proper look at the paper. He scanned over the indecipherable notes like they were scripture, and when Jim supposed he had finished he began laughing, hearty and strong. Chuck grinned even brighter, and at Jim’s best guess it seemed Spock looked on somewhat happily.

"By God, you know Jim, he's been telling me for months he could figure out a way to make an engine only meant to work at 250 horsepower go up to 355 horsepower. And for months I've been telling him he's crazy. But he's done it, - I really think this could work," Scotty said, scooting Chuck over so he could scan over the notes more deliberately. Chuck nodded, and then after a moment sheepishly tugged at Scotty's sleeve to point out Spock. Jim turned to him and noticed the slight tint to his cheeks indicating embarrassment at being pointed out.

"Well Jim, I can tell you now your friend has the job. And if he wants to mess around with a couple of our own engines in the back that's fine by me. By god I can't believe it, it's genius." Scotty muttered, running a hand through his hair in abject joy. Spock merely bent his head in a mock bow and shifted uncertainly on his feet.

"The praise is unwarranted, I simply pointed out a slight aberration in Mr. Parker's equation. All of his work was in the right place," Spock said, and Jim couldn't help but smile at his modesty. Obviously his guess had been right in assuming Spock's aptitude for math. 

"Well that by no means changes my mind, I've just told Jim here in exchange for fixing your truck you two will be handling some odd jobs around the shop." 

"That seems a fair trade," Spock said easily, and Scotty gave him an encouraging slap on the back that was received with a comically high eyebrow raise. 

"Scotty I can't thank you enough, really," Jim said but Scotty simply waved his hand to brush the comment aside.

“It’s nothing laddie. Now, I’ll give you two a ride to our nearest motel for the night, but I’ll be back at 7 O’clock sharp to start the work day tomorrow.” Scotty said with a grin, and Jim cringed internally at the early wake up time but nodded his head with a brave smile directed at Scotty. 

**~~~**

A half an hour later Jim and Spock were dropped off at the Half Moon Motel, their one bag sitting between them as Jim waved Scotty off, watching him disappear back down the dusty country road. Once Scotty and his car were out of view, Jim turned round to the motel's entrance and motioned for Spock to follow him in. The motel’s lobby was sparse, just the counter, and a dying fern plant in the corner, empty of all but the woman manning the check in desk. 

Her back was turned, and her nose stuck deep inside an old issue of  _ Confidential _ . Carefully Jim approached the counter and cleared his throat to grab her attention, but her eyes did not lift from the magazine. 

"We'd like a room with twin beds please," Jim asked and the young woman looked up startled from her magazine. She looked between the two of them, eyes resting a moment longer on Spock than Jim felt comfortable with, and then finally back to Jim. She placed her magazine down and walked over to a wall of keys hanging prettily like Christmas ornaments on the back wall. 

"We only have singles,” she said dropping a key down on the countertop between them and Jim stared down at it like it was some sort of bomb about to implode. At least that's what his heartfelt like, thumping away at a hundred miles an hour in his rib cage.

"Do you have a cot we could use?" Jim asked pleadingly, and the woman shrugged, her curling red hair bouncing slightly at the movement. 

"I'd have to check," she said sounding bored, and Jim had the very sinking suspicion she was in no mood to do that for him. He swallowed, refused to let his eyes wander over to Spock, and grabbed the key. 

"That'll be 15 for the night sweetheart," she said, but the sweetheart came out sounding like a false replacement for a much worse word. She continued to stare at him like she knew something, something Jim couldn’t even try to hide. 

He slammed the money down on the counter and grabbed Spock's arm forcefully as they left, but Spock only raised an eyebrow in concern as Jim checked the key tag for their room number. 

He was being paranoid is all, one bad experience shouldn't mar all of his life. And that time hadn't even been that bad. It was simply gossip, that Jim knew was about him. 

As soon as they entered the room, Jim could feel his shoulders slump in relief, and he let a long slow breath out to lower his heart rate. Spock stood gazing at the room, and thankfully not at Jim, appraising the slightly brown walls, the stiff-looking sheets on the bed, and the weak light coming from the lamp on the bedside table. 

"Do all humans live like this?" Spock asked, voice low like he wasn't really trying to ask Jim that, but Jim let out a small laugh anyway.

"No buddy, this is pretty low digs even by my standards. But it's cheap, cheaper than we're gonna get anywhere else really," Jim said with a shrug.

As Spock continued his appraisal of the room, heading to check out the bathroom’s colonies of mold, Jim nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a backfiring engine just down the road. He chastised himself for being so unnecessarily jumpy and allowed himself to collapse onto the musty smelling bed. He let their bag land at the foot of the bed, and closed his eyes, waiting for his nerves to dissipate. 

"Jim?" Spock's voice broke through his unplanned meditation, and his eyes snapped open to see Spock standing over him, uncertain looking, and very very close. Jim let out a slight gasp and then tried to cull the immediate flush on his cheeks. Spock took a step back from the bed, hands clasped behind his back. 

Jim knew this was a nervous gesture of his.

"Spock- uh what is it?"

“I require food at this time,” Spock said calmly, and Jim sat up with a frown. 

When they’d still been driving Jim had tried on multiple occasions to get Spock to have some of the rations he’d had stored in the truck. Each time he’d claimed he didn’t require sustenance at the moment, and Jim had warily let him be. Not once had Spock ever asked for them to stop for a bite to eat.

“I guess- I mean there’s a vending machine I saw on our way in, I suppose I can get you something from there,” Jim said, thinking back to the sparse looking snack options there had been. It had to be better than nothing though.

“Anything should do,” Spock said generously, and Jim nodded trying not to let the doubt show too obviously in his expression as he grabbed for his wallet.

In truth, the vending machine had even less options than Jim had first assumed. Beyond several bags of chips, crackers, and snack puffs, there was nothing of any nutritional gain. Not that Jim had thought they’d be so lucky to find something of that caliber in a roadside motel, but one could hope.

He selected randomly, grabbing two boxes of snacks before quickly heading back to the room. He dropped one of them down on the bed as he entered, and Spock grabbed it up immediately. Before he tore into the packaging though, he gave a decided pause as he read the box.

“ _ Corn Diggers _ ?” Spock asked, sounding somewhat disdainful, looking down at the small box of corn puffs like Jim had gotten them specifically to displease him. 

“Until we get back into town tomorrow, this is all we’ve got, maybe you wouldn’t be so hungry if you’d had some of my beef jerky on the road,” Jim said with an eyeroll, heaving their bag of clothes onto the bed. Spock straightened up, looking indignant, then apparently thinking better of fighting it, tore open the snack box silently. Jim huffed a silent laugh, then began organizing and moving his clothes into the set of drawers under the television.

It felt nice to be able to have that bit of normality restored, after the months of living out of a suitcase. Spock watched him quietly, eating his Corn Diggers with only the slightest grimace. Jim promised himself he’d get Spock a decent meal tomorrow, starting to feel guilty over puffed corn being Spock’s first Earthen meal. 

“I do not consume animal products,” Spock spoke up suddenly after he laid his empty snack carton down on the bedside table, and Jim turned to him confused.

“You don’t- is it a cultural thing on Vulcan?” Jim asked, feeling his guilt increase as he pushed close the drawer he had been filling. Spock narrowed his eye for a moment at Jim’s mispronunciation of his home planet but continued dignified nonetheless. 

“Yes but- we also find it distasteful, I am sorry if I offended you by refusing your previous offers of sustenance.”

“Spock that's not- you don’t have to apologize for that. I of all people should have realized, I mean it’s kind of hard to stay Kosher on the road with a tight budget but- next time just tell me okay?” Jim said with a small amount of alarm.

“You follow Judaism?” Spock asked, surprising Jim for about the thousandth time since he’d known him.

“Uh yeah, I mean my mom does, but it’s not- I haven't been to Temple in a while,” Jim shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. They hadn’t gone to Temple since his dad had died. 

“And yet you still follow the scripture,” Spock asked curiously, and Jim let out an awkward half laugh. 

“I wouldn’t say I follow as closely as my mom would want me to, I slip up sometimes but- it’s something familiar, it makes me feel close to home,” Jim said and Spock nodded, almost like he understood. They sat for a moment in silence, and Jim thought several times that he should be the one to break it, but it felt nice somehow, not having to say anything because there was an understanding that certain feelings about family and tradition were universal.

“I brought some books with me from the truck- I’m not much of a T.V fan but I thought we’d want something to entertain ourselves,” Jim finally cut in, remembering the several paperbacks he’d stuffed into the bottom of his canvas bag. He began distributing the different copies onto the bed and Spock looked them over with unconcealed curiosity. 

After all the books had been removed from the bag, Spock immediately grabbed for  _ The Catcher in the Rye _ , an old favorite of Sam's. Jim picked up  _ The Planet of the Apes _ , which he’d nearly finished before Spock had crash landed into his life. 

They spent the rest of the night pouring over their own respective books, Jim trying to keep as much distance as he could between them on the bed. Spock finished his book within the hour, and Jim his just a few minutes after, and once the lights were out, Jim fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

**~~~**

The next morning Jim awoke to find himself nestled against Spock's back, and immediately he startled away, his skin heating with a dark flush. He held still for a moment, worried his rushed movement might have woken Spock from his half-sleep, but he stayed motionless, curled in on himself, breathing deeply. Slowly Jim lowered his feet down onto the floor, letting out a slight sigh of relief. They'd fallen asleep so quickly the night before that both of them were still fully dressed, and feeling the dirt and sweat of yesterday still on his skin, plus weeks worth of it from the road, Jim decided he would let himself partake in something he hadn't in a quite a few weeks.

The shower did not heat up immediately, much to Jim's chagrin, but after five or so minutes of shivering under the cold spray, blessed heat hit his skin. Of all the showers Jim had had in life, this wasn’t at all his best, but it was his most deserved. He stayed under the spray longer than he'd intended, and by the time he shut the water off and pulled the curtain aside, his fingers were pruning. 

Wiping away steam from the mirror, Jim looked himself over. He pulled distastefully at his bangs which had gotten too long and stared too long at the freckles that had begun to pop up on his face after their full day of walking in the sun. He didn't look bad, but he didn't look like himself either, he hadn't had enough control in his life to be able to keep himself well-groomed, and it was something he missed. Maybe there was a barber somewhere in town Scotty could direct him too.

Jim shook his head at the idea, as the mirror fogged up again. There was no way he would waste money on that now. He still needed to feed himself and Spock and pay for the motel for however many nights. 

He changed quickly, before he exited out into the room, where Spock was now awake, and perusing Jim's piles of books from the night before. He glanced up only briefly before returning to his causal look over of Jim's small collection. 

"If you want, I think I saved enough hot water for you to take a shower," Jim said, running a towel through his hair, and Spock raised an eyebrow in question.

"It's for bathing," Jim said in explanation, and Spock nodded carefully before standing, passing by Jim with ease.

"I'll just- grab you another set of clothes then," Jim said as the door closed in his face, trying not to feel needlessly embarrassed. 

Jim collected a fresh pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a knitted cap for Spock to wear, an odd combination for certain but hopefully, Scotty and Chuck would have the kindness to not ask.

Jim nearly choked when the bathroom door opened and Spock exited with a towel held loosely around his hips. He averted his eyes, after haphazardly tossing the pile of clothes at him, muttered something about waiting outside for Scotty, and then made a quick dash for the door.

Spock joined him moments before Scotty pulled into the parking lot of the motel, waving cheerily from the driver's seat. Jim took the passenger's seat, not thinking he could handle having Spock in his direct line of sight for the moment and nodded his head distractedly when Scotty made some comment about the busy day that was ahead of them.

Jim wished he'd been listening a little better then, as the day  _ was _ actually incredibly jammed packed. For such a small town, lots of cars seemed to pass through, either needing oil changes, flat tires fixed, or general maintenance performed. The friends of Scotty tended to stay longer, joking around with him, making too polite conversation that mostly ended up leaving Jim alone to deal with several different issues at once. 

Spock stayed in the back rooms, working with Chuck and away from the customers, much to Jim's dissatisfaction. His only positive thought was that at least there would be no chance of anyone asking after Spock. No prying questions about him.

Jim received his fair share, from the local farmers. Asking him how long he'd be staying in town if he'd tried the local diner yet, if he wasn't staying what he was doing here? Jim tried to answer all of them as politely as he could, while also trying his best to figure out why the left headlight of the Ford he was working on wouldn't light up.

Scotty finally gave him a break around noon, and five dollars for the diner a couple blocks away. Jim didn't even have the peace of mind to thank him enough, and shuffled out the door, with the beginnings of a bad headache.

The diner was very nearly empty when Jim arrived inside, only a few patrons huddled together in the booths, and a single waitress behind the counter staring lazily at a bubbling coffee maker. Jim ordered a meal of over-easy eggs and toast for himself, and then to go he asked for a container of waffles. 

He arrived back at the garage not twenty minutes later, feeling much more human after an actual meal. He made sure Scotty knew he was back, then made his way to the auto shop's office space. In the backroom, both Chuck and Spock were standing in front of a board of haphazardly pinned notes, both of them turned with a start when they saw Jim enter.

"I brought Lunch," Jim said with a grin, holding up the bag with four overly sized waffles, and Chuck smiled thankfully at him, before moving aside files of miscellaneous papers at their workspace to make room for the food.

Before Jim left them to continue his work, Spock followed him to the door, grabbing at his sleeve before he could make it out the door,

"Thank you, Jim," Spock said quietly, and Jim couldn't help but smile.

“It’s no problem, really, now go eat before Chuck steals it all.” 

After that interaction, the rest of the day went by smoothly enough, the number of customers ebbed until there was only one or so people in to have a car checked. Mostly it was just locals coming in to talk to Scotty, and Jim was unneeded for those conversations. By 9:00 though Jim felt dead on his feet, back aching from hours bent over car engines, and hands stained black from engine oil. 

"You did some fine work today Laddie, couldn't have asked for more," Scotty said, once their last customer for the day drove off back home. Jim gave him a weak grin and slumped down into a vacant chair.

"Is every day like this?" Jim asked, rubbing at a kink in his neck, and Scotty only chuckled softly.

"Nigh, it's not always this bad- truthfully I think word got out you and your friend were staying in town, and people came to have a look for themselves," Scotty said with a mischievous smile, and Jim looked at him slack-jawed.

"So they didn't really need help?" Jim asked, trying to wrap his head around the hours of work he'd put in already.

"Oh, not quite that bad, they just came with any problem they had, small or big, can't say I blame them, not much happens here ya know. But a little salacious gossip never hurt anyone."

"I'd hardly say I'm worthy of salacious gossip," Jim said with a frown, grabbing up a half clean rag to wipe off his hands.

"I'm going to go get Chuck from the back if you and Leonard want to join us for dinner. You're welcome to ride along with us to the diner," Scotty said, patting Jim's shoulder as he passed.

"I'd- appreciate that," Jim said with a sigh and a forgiving smile. 

The diner had a small range of items, most of which were not free of meat, but Jim ordered a piece of peach cobbler and a coffee for Spock when he gave a dissatisfied look at the menu. Jim himself ordered hash browns and an omelet along with a Coke, thanking Scotty several times for paying, all of which were waved away with a smile and a chuckle.

They ate peacefully, with little chatter between them, all tired from a hard day's work. Chuck, while mostly consumed in his attention towards a pot pie, was scribbling furiously on to a napkin with a pen he'd pulled from behind his ear. Every minute or so he'd shift the napkin over for Spock to look at, wait as Spock took the pen and fixed his notes, and then continued, with one hand to work, and the other to eat.

Overall, Jim had to think it was a nice meal, shared among people Jim was coming to like very much. 

Scotty and Chuck left them back at the motel with cheery waves, and before Jim let himself into the room, he told Spock to go in ahead of him.

He made a beeline for the vending machine, tonight with a specific purpose. He returned only a couple of minutes later carrying two candy bars proudly. He handed one to Spock with a triumphant smile.

"What is this?" Spock asked, holding out the $100,000 bar like some kind of toxic lab experiment. Jim covered a smile as he grabbed the bar from Spock's hands and unwrapped it halfway, holding it back out once he'd finished.

"You eat it. It's not exactly nutritious, but I thought after your first day of work it could be a special treat- they taste good, I promise," Jim said unsuccessfully trying to cover his humor. As Spock took a careful nibble of his bar, Jim unwrapped his own and took a bite out of it with a happy sigh. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, enjoying their candy, the real bed they could lay in, the heat of the interior, and the fact they did not have to sleep out in the cold for a second night in a row. 

"If chocolate is not nutritious, is there a reason to eat it?" Spock asked.

"It tastes good, which is usually enough for any human," Jim said frankly, and Spock nodded before taking another tentative bite of his. 

“Do Vulcans really not eat for pleasure? You don't have favorite meals or anything like that?" Jim asked, leaning forward to cross his legs in front of himself. Spock studied his candy thoughtfully before he answered.

"To have a favorite would be illogical. While certain foods taste different, they all provide the proper calories to help us carry out tasks. " Spock answered, but he was eating the candy with such a vigor now that Jim had a hard time believing that was completely true.

"Doesn't sound like a fun way to live," Jim said with a sigh, and he slipped his legs over the side of the bed to stand, crumpling his now empty wrapper. As Spock finished the last bits of his candy, Jim threw away his trash and began looking through the drawers for sleeping clothes.

"Vulcan culture is not meant to be fun, it is meant to teach discipline and- " Spock blinked slowly at his candy bar wrapper, now empty of the sweet, and then in a very sudden show of emotion he frowned at it. 

"You alright there Spock?" Jim asked nervously, pausing in his search efforts, and consciously stopping himself from moving around the bed to check on Spock like some kind of over protective mother hen.

"My chocolate seems to have disappeared," Spock stated slowly, leaning up shakily from where he'd leaned back against the bed. 

"That’s usually what happens when you eat that fast," Jim said carefully, ignoring his reluctance to mother this time and walking to Spock's side. Spock’s hand reached out as Jim made it to the bed, and the grip on his forearm came as such a shock, Jim nearly tripped backward.

“Would it be too much trouble to have another $100,000 bar?” Spock asked, his voice almost plaintive, pleading, so full of  _ feeling _ that Jim sat down hard on the bed to help himself adjust.

“I don’t- I don’t think that's a great idea right now- Spock hey, something’s wrong, you have to tell me what’s wrong,” Jim said, trying his best to not let the panic seep into his voice. Spock only smiled, soft and sure, and it made Jim’s blood run cold.

"You wouldn't make a very good Vulcan Jim. I have only known you for approximately six days, 23 hours and - " Spock paused, licking his lips like he was having trouble feeling them, "-and some minutes, but I know you would not enjoy the strict structure of Surak's teachings." Spock said quietly as Jim leaned over him checking his pupils. They were severely dilated. 

"Spock- hey Spock, Vulcan's they don't- if they don't have chocolate on your planet- are you having an allergic reaction?" Jim asked earnestly, laying his hands carefully on Spock's shoulders. 

Instead of flinching away from the touch like Jim was so used to Spock doing, he leaned into it, studying Jim's face with an unusual intensity.

"I did not make a good Vulcan either Jim- I am-" Spock paused, smiling softly, "I am hopeful that I make a good enough human for Earth.”

"Yeah, hey- I  _ know _ you make a great human. Why don’t you just lie down for a minute, I’m gonna get you some water,” Jim spoke softly, lowering Spock back down to the bed slowly. He watched Spock carefully as he rose to grab a glass from the bathroom sink. As the water filled, much too slow for Jim’s nerves, Spock tried and failed to sit up again. As quickly as he could Jim turned the tap off and rushed back to his side. 

“My motor skills seem to have depreciated, and my mental faculties are declining. Does chocolate usually do this to humans?” Spock asked, a little crease forming between his pointed brows. Shoving all urges to smooth out that wrinkle to the back of his head, Jim gently pushed Spock back down onto the bed for the second time.

“No, I can’t say it does,” Jim said tersely, and then unceremoniously placed the palm of his hand on Spock’s forehead to check for a temperature. The skin beneath his hand was icy and he immediately jerked it away in alarm.

“Jeez Spock you’re freezing.”

“A Vulcan’s natural temperature rests at 91 degrees and is far above freezing Jim,” Spock started calmly, and with a slightly lazy gesture grabbed Jim’s hand to lay it back on his forehead.

“ _ Spock?” _ Jim asked incredulously, as Spock hummed contentedly.

“Your hand is warm, it is comfortable,” Spock said, voice low and dreamy like he was on the edge of falling asleep. Jim nodded once before realizing Spock could not see him. 

“Well if this is your natural temperature, you don’t have a fever, you’re just a little flushed. Spock, it’s almost as if you're drunk,” Jim said dumbfounded, hand still in place on Spock’s forehead, and the only real answer he received in return was slow  _ mhmm _ . 

"Alright, can you at least drink this for me? And then I'll- I'll read to you," Jim said, grabbing for anything that would allow him to keep a handle on the situation, and on Spock's physical state. Spock made a grabby motion for the cup, and Jim gladly handed it over, carefully holding it to make sure none of the liquid spilled out. After half of it was gone Spock pulled back, a little more lucid.

"I had planned on starting  _ To Kill a Mockingbird _ tonight. It won a Pulitzer prize," Spock said quietly, letting his head fall back on the pillow. Jim nodded for a moment, watching as Spock's eyes fluttered closed. 

"Alright,  _ To Kill a Mockingbird _ it is," Jim said just as quietly, lifting himself from the bed carefully.

Making his way over to his now stacked pile of books, Jim extracted his paperback copy of the novel, holding it almost referentially in his hands. It was a book he'd read countless times, on hot summer nights in Iowa. He hoped Spock would like it.

When Jim sat back on the bed, Spock's eyes opened immediately, glued to Jim's face. Jim shifted a little closer, propping the book on his knee, and began to read aloud as Spock sighed, contented, almost human.

_ "When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and Jem's fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury. His left arm was somewhat shorter than his right; when he stood or walked, the back of his hand was at right angles to his body, his thumb parallel to his thigh. He couldn't have cared less, so long as he could pass and punt." _

**~~~**

Spock woke the next morning with a headache and the demeanor of a caged tiger. He was far more congenial towards Jim of course, but once they were tucked away in Scotty’s truck for their day of work, he didn’t speak a word, simply let his head rest against the cool glass window.

Jim vowed not to let chocolate anywhere near him in the future.

The rest of the day from Jim’s point of view went rather smoothly. After the hustle and bustle of the day before, the garage was very nearly dead to activity, and he and Scotty spent the afternoon working on repairs for the truck. When nine o’clock rolled around, Jim could barely believe it. He and a still weary looking Spock piled into the truck once more and were dropped off at the motel with bags of leftover breakfast food from Scotty for dinner. 

They ate together in silence until finally, Jim broke down.

“Are you- feeling any better today?” he asked, stabbing at the leftover yoke of his eggs with a piece of charred toast.

Spock's fork froze halfway to his mouth, and then lowered as his cheeks took on pinkish blush. “I would- appreciate it if we did not discuss the events of last night.” 

“Right, yeah,” Jim said quickly, abashed, and cast his eyes to the bedside table quickly. His eyes lit upon  _ To Kill a Mockingbird, _ resting upside down with its pages open to where Jim had left off the night before. 

“I left a bookmark in it where we stopped last night,” Jim said sheepishly, grabbing at the book to hand it over to Spock who took it while very obviously avoiding eye contact. 

“Thank you.”

Feeling restless, Jim decided he might as well get ready for bed, no matter how early it felt. He grabbed an old worn sleep shirt, and flannel pants and headed to the bathroom as Spock became consumed in his book. 

When Jim exited the bathroom, Spock was still very much not paying attention to him. Jim knew he’d embarrassed Spock the night before, however unintentionally, and he needed to find some way to break the tension. 

He let his first thoughts drop from his mouth without much thought.

"Hey Spock, I don't think I've ever asked you but- how do you know so much about Earth? I mean, I know there are some things you're not familiar with but, those are easy enough gaps to fill," Jim asked, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and Spock slowly raised his head from  _ To Kill a Mockingbird  _ to stare at Jim quizzically.

"Vulcan's satellite systems are far more advanced than Earth's at this point in time, and it's fairly easy to pick up your radio waves, as well as video messages. Because of my father's position on the Vulcan high council, I was granted access to them for research purposes," Spock said calmly, immediately turning back to his book, but Jim's curiosity was far from quenched now.

"So what- you learned all these languages just by listening to them? On the radio?” Jim asked, and Spock sighed, before dog-earing the page he was on and turned to Jim fully.

"Yes, it took me several months of constant research, but once I learned one Latin based language the rest were easy- I found Arabic to be a particular challenge but it was the most pleasing to speak. English is -" Spock paused, the closest thing to distaste wavered across his face before he continued, "to be as you would say ' _ rough around the edges _ '. It is a stolen language, there is too much of everything in it," Spock finished, and Jim couldn't help but shake his head in impressed silence.

"Okay but- what about colloquialisms, and pop culture, you know plenty about that stuff, did the radio teach you all of it?" Jim pressed, and Spock shook his head methodically.

"No, that is when I turned to your video messaging system. I spent weeks pouring over a documentary series by Lucille Ricardo," Spock said completely straight-faced and Jim had to take a moment to make sure he 'd heard right.

"Lucille Ricardo?" Jim repeated, and Spock raised an eyebrow in question.

"Yes, she's an extremely talented anthropologist, I learned plenty about Earth culture from her and her husband Richard Ricardo," Spock stated concisely, and Jim didn't even have the sense to laugh, he simply leaned back against the bed’s headboard and tried to wrap his mind around it. Spock had been duped by good old television.

"Spock was the documentary series called 

_ I Love Lucy _ ?" Jim asked, and both of Spock's eyebrows raised in surprise that time. 

"You are familiar with her work?" Spock asked, surprised, and Jim nodded his head, a grin spreading across his face

"I'm quite familiar, my mom and I watched reruns of it all the time," Jim said, and at Spock's, almost happy expression Jim burst into laughter. Spock's face fell, and Jim did his best to calm down to explain the mixup quickly.

Spock was only minorly disappointed his research had really been thinly veiled enjoyment of television, and they spent the rest of their night discussing the, in Spock’s opinion, most fascinating episodes of  _ I Love Lucy. _

The incident with the $100,000 bar was forgotten happily.

**~~~**

Their week in Dupree was nearly up, and once Friday rolled around Jim found himself almost dreading their removal at the completion of their engine repairs. Scotty and Chuck had become good friends to the both of them, and it was work that Jim could enjoy. No matter how stoic Spock liked to think he was, there were times when Jim would swear he was happy. It wasn’t just the company at the garage that Jim was enjoying though. It was the late night reading that had become routine between him and Spock. It was a quiet affair, but before that, they would swap stories about their lives on separate planets.

Jim spent a lot of his time skirting the important bits of his life to give Spock his best impression of Earth. He talked of his childhood on the farm, about his high school years, the basketball games, the dances, the classes he’d enjoyed and the ones he’d hated. He talked about his summers, spent lazing in creeks, crafting makeshift tire swings, and hours spent at the county fair. Spock was fascinated by it all, mostly for the pure absurdity of Jim’s life, how much of it seemed to be filled with inane fluff. 

Each time Jim would give something away though, he’d prod Spock, ask him a question about life on Vulcan (at this point Spock had stopped correcting his pronunciation). He told little things at first, about the boiling climate, the stronger gravity, how different Earth felt. But then he began to let on about his life, his father and their household. Jim didn’t need to be a mind reader to know all of Spock’s stories lacked any fondness for his home. The only time Jim sensed even a bit of longing was when Spock talked of his pet  I-Chaya, a fearsome bear-like creature who had died long before his voyage to Earth.

Jim wasn’t sure what would happen once they left Dupree if their slowly gained camaraderie would disappear as they made their way closer and closer to Amanda Grayson. All Jim could do, was hope it wouldn’t, as he worked to fix his truck.

It was about half past 3, when Chuck, red eyed and grinning, raced up to Scotty gesticulating wildly to follow him. It was the reprieve Jim needed from his sordid thoughts and he followed readily behind Scotty, and Chuck led them out to the back lot of the garage. 

Which is how Jim found himself standing wide eyed, as the most depressing looking Jalopy he had ever seen, raced around a makeshift track out behind the auto shop. Clouds of dust were being picked up and thrown, obscuring most of the view, but the souped up engine of the car was purring like a kitten, reaching speeds Jim was only familiar with in race cars.

Next to him, Chuck was smiling ear to ear, clutching a small notebook to his chest. When the car miraculously picked up speed, Jim had to take a step back in awe. 

After a few more laps, the car began to decelerate, and it suddenly occurred to Jim just who was driving the car. As it finally came to a stop in front of the group, and the kicked up dust began to settle, Spock opened the door to the vehicle calmly. Jim could do nothing but stare.

“Chuck- how fast do you think he was going there?” Scotty asked, taking a step towards the car, eyeing the engine compartment with a certain amount of veneration. Chuck scribbled something down in his notebook then handed it over to Scotty, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. 

“By God, 150 miles per hour- how did you do it?” Scotty asked, turning to Spock with excitement.

Spock looked up in surprise, and when Chuck nodded at him to answer he responded, “I only made minor adjustments to make the crankshaft spin faster. The kinetic energy did the rest of the work. We are far from done, but Mr. Parker was adamant we run an experimental trial run.”

“Not done eh, people will come miles for a soup up like this!” Scotty said jovially, wrapping one arm around Chuck’s shoulders, for a fatherly looking side hug. 

As Scotty pulled Chuck away to take a good look at the alterations to the engine, Jim walked up to Spock to speak to him quietly. “I didn’t know you could drive like that.” 

“I’ve watched you drive,” he said in answer, and Jim just shook his head in quiet admiration.

“You learned just from that?” Jim asked, mostly joking, but Spock only nodded.

“I know how to pilot vehicles of a much greater difficulty than a car Jim,” Spock said almost tartly, and Jim had to let out an unbecoming snort.

“Yeah, remind me again who crashed a spaceship into my campsite?” Jim said with a grin, and Spock looked about ready to elbow him, only making Jim’s grin widen.

“Those were extenuating circumstances.”

“I’m going to go grab the tow truck Jim, we’re done for the day,” Scotty said, cutting into their private conversation, kindly patting Jim on the shoulder. Jim nodded encouragingly as he watched Scotty walk off, before turning back to Spock.

“I’m going to go help Chuck clean up your workspace, I think he ran off ahead. Scotty will be out front for our ride in a minute,” Jim said, clapping a hand on Spock’s back thoughtlessly, but Spock did not seem so wary of his touch now and simply nodded his head.

“I will make him aware of your delay.”

Jim grinned, and then raced back into the garage, making his way to Chuck and Spock’s usual place of work. He followed the sound of shuffling feet and finally came upon Chuck who was turned away from his as he approached, head nodding along to an imaginary tune. 

“Need any help?” Jim asked into the quiet and Chuck, startled, dropped the wrench held tightly in his hand.

" _ B’lyad', derr`mo _ ," Chuck snapped, as the wrench fell heavily onto his foot, and Jim stared in shocked silence, as Chuck went beet red. Suddenly as if struck, Chuck took off to the backroom of the auto shop, not waiting for Jim to even react to the very obvious  _ Russian _ that had dropped from his mouth. Without thinking, Jim raced after him, worry the only thing driving him to check in on his newly acquired friend.

Chuck was in a complete state of panic as he raced around the break room, his locker open and being emptied, in a haze of muttered Russian. 

"Chuck?" Jim asked, but Chuck continued moving, not taking his eyes off of his work, and Jim took another step into the room. Closing the door behind him is what finally drew Chuck to a stop, his chest heaving, and his face red with what Jim could only be described as frustration and panic. 

"Chuck, come'on kid, why don't we take a seat?" Jim said carefully, motioning to the coffee table and the battered old couch. Chuck looked down at the old jean jacket in his hands, and then back up to Jim, his eyes laden with unshed tears. After a moment more of silence, Chuck finally placed the jacket back in his locker and slowly moved to sit down on the couch. 

"Alright, thank you, Chuck," Jim said, taking a seat across from him on the coffee table, a thing he knew Scotty hated him doing. 

"Chekov," Chuck muttered under his breath, wiping a hand across his face angrily, and Jim frowned in confusion.

"What?"

"Chekov- my name it is, Chekov. Pavel Andreievich Chekov," Chekov stated, his shoulders straightening a little, gaining a little more of the brash confidence Jim was used to seeing in the kid.

"Chekov, you don't happen to be from South Dakota, do you?" Jim asked, hoping the smile on his face didn't show any panic, but Chekov only sat up straighter.

"No, I'm from Moscow, Russia,” Chekhov stayed firmly, as politely as he could with a tear streaked face.

“How’d you end up here kid?” Jim asked carefully, trying to keep his expression as friendly as possible. 

“My family sent me here for school- I studied hard, I vas a  _ good  _ student, but I vas accused of cheating, as if I needed to- but Americans-" Chekov's eyes grew flinty with anger, and Jim placed a hand on his knee.

"Yeah I get it, kid, I'm not saying anything bad about you. Scotty's helping you cover?" Jim asked, and Chekov nodded after a moment.

"Yes, we have- loose family connections. Wery loose. They've arrested men and women with more connections to Russia than me, Mr. Kirk,” Chekov finally said, in dismay, and Jim nodded his head thoughtfully for a moment.

"And that's why you're a mute, huh, too thick of an accent," Jim said, and Chekov's face colored red again from embarrassment.

"I tried to - it is not easy, I already learned English, I did not think I would also need to  _ act _ to be accepted," Chekov muttered, and Jim let out a small laugh, but immediately sobered at Chekov's harsh look.

"You're right, you don't deserve any of it kid, you're a genius if I've ever seen one. You should be studying at MIT, and don't think for a minute that this news is going to leave the room. I know a lot of hard headed idiots out there, but I’m not one of them. I’m not going to judge you just because you were born on different soil than I was,” Jim said resolutely, giving Chekov’s knee a comforting shake, and after a quiet moment, Jim could see Chekov’s mouth quiver into an unconscious smile.

“Why don’t we finish cleaning up, I think we’ve kept Scotty waiting long enough right?” Jim asked after giving Chekov a moment to collect himself. The younger boy gave a stilted nod, and they soon left the break room with a new understanding of one another. 

**~~~**

The truck’s repairs were completed Sunday. A full nine days after their appearance in Dupree, and Jim felt almost sick looking at the completed job.

They'd already collected their stuff from the motel the night before, in preparation for repairs being completed the next day. All Jim had to do was close the hood of the truck and - then they could go. They could leave behind the small town of Dupree, with its homey diner, and kind auto garage owner, and its sense of comfort that was hard to come by these days. He and Spock could leave, and be on their way, finally.

Jim wished he didn't feel so bad about that.

"I'll go collect Leonard from the back, and then you two can get a head start on travel," Scotty said with his ever present smile, but Jim could only nod weakly in return. 

When Scotty came back out with Spock in tow, Chekov was right alongside them, looking just as forlorn as Jim felt.

"Before you head off, I've got a gift for ya, it's from both me and Chuck. Just a little thing," Scotty said, before pulling a crumpled white envelope from his back pocket. Jim took it carefully, with a sinking feeling as he gingerly opened it. Inside sat several rows of ten dollar bills, at least 200 dollars worth of cash, and Jim nearly handed it back immediately in shock.

"Scotty I - we can't take this. You've already done too much for us," Jim said in shock, and Scotty pushed the envelope back forcefully.

"No, Jim, keep it. You and Leonard have done work worthy of ten men this week, it's the least I can do to help you along. I don't know your plans, but I want things to go smoothly for you, as best they can at least," Scotty said with a sad smile, and Jim could feel his throat constricting, the burn of tears in his eyes.

"Your gift is greatly appreciated," Spock said, looking steady as ever, but his voice held an amazing amount of respect anyway. Scotty nodded at him in thanks, and then he turned back to Jim.

"You better go now, before the sun sets on you, " Scotty said, clearing his throat obviously, and wiping at his eyes quickly. Jim nodded, placing his cleaning rag down on a work bench for the last time, and motioned for Spock to head to the passengers seat. Chekov followed closely behind Spock as he made his way into the truck.

As Jim gave Scotty a hearty handshake in goodbye, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Spock leaned down to whisper something to Chekov, who's eyes widened in unexpected joy at whatever was said. Before Jim could stop him, Chekov was leaning through the window to wrap his arms around Spock’s shoulders. Just as quickly as the hug was given though, Chekov was off, backing away, wiping furiously at his watering eyes. Spock nodded politely in return. 

"I hope to see you boys back in Dupree sometime," Scotty said, letting go of Jim’s hand finally, his eyes sad.

"Well, we'll know where the best auto shop in South Dakota is, we won't miss visiting if we pass through again," Jim couldn't help but saying it, no matter how unlikely a reunion would ever be between them. With that, he gave one last wave to both Scotty and Chekov and climbed into the truck. 

With that, Jim and Spock left the town of Dupree.


	4. Chapter 4

To make up for lost time, Jim and Spock both decided their best course of action would be to stay on the road as long as possible. They got gas when they could, but beyond that, they spent their first days back on the road with just each other for company again. Summer was blooming all around them, and the heat and sun were a nice distraction from the long hours of driving. 

Jim rolled the windows down and stuck his hand out to catch the wind, feeling the soft touches of the early summer sun, and grinned out at the passing greenery. Everything was bright and shining, and there was a certain elation to be moving at high speeds past it all. Jim's own joy seemed to be reflected in Spock's eyes as he sat curled up comfortably in the passenger seat, nose tucked deep within an Austen novel. 

Being back on the road was a relief to both of them, and the appearance of summer heat seemed to be a great joy to Spock, who detested the cold. Jim couldn't say he didn't miss the chill a little bit, but Spock seemed like a happy house cat soaking up the sunlight pouring through the windows. Somehow Jim felt less like he had lost time, and that he had instead gained something precious because of the passage of it.

They drove far that first day on the road. Jim only stopped twice for gas, not worrying too much at the slowly dwindling bills in his pocket. Instead, the next day he let them take a rest, they found a beautiful little creek off the side of the road, secluded and dappled with sunlight, and Jim sensing a good opportunity to cool off, stripped down to his underwear and dove in. Spock watched from the shore, curious and a little unsure as Jim floated lazily on his back, enjoying the cloying feeling of clear river water on his body. It was chilly, but it did wonders for Jim who had always run hot, and as soon as he saw Spock slowly peeling off his sweater, Jim gave an ecstatic holler.

As soon as Spock was in the water Jim was splashing at him, which Spock not at all expecting, spluttered in surprise at. Spock took it as a challenge and soon enough in a very un-Vulcan like matter as Spock would say afterward, they splashed and played in the water for at least an hour's time.

By the time they left the creek, Spock's lips were a pale blue, and Jim immediately rushed to the truck to grab dry clothes. He hadn't considered the cold would affect Spock any differently. Once Spock was dry however he returned to normal if only for a few shivers here and there. They spent the rest of the afternoon lazing in a patch of sunlight, each nose deep in books of their choosing. Jim himself was nearly through his collection and considered a possible trip to a book sale the next time they came across a town. Jim knew the library in Riverside always had a collection of books up for sale. He was sure they could replenish their collection quickly.

Spock still seemed to be enjoying a copy of Northanger Abbey, a favorite of Jim's mother. At every other page his mouth would quirk up a little more, and Jim watched him peacefully, feeling altogether content.

"We should camp here for the night," Jim sighed lazily, letting his eyes flutter shut as the sun kissed his face with a soft warmth. Spock was quiet next to him, besides the soft rustling of grass and the turning of pages, but he stopped once Jim spoke.

"I have no objection to resting here," Spock said calmly, and Jim peeked open one eye to look at him. He was still reading, looking slightly tanned. In fact, he looked hale and healthier than Jim had ever really seen him. It occurred to Jim, after all of Spock's stories of Vulcan, that this was the first time on Earth Spock had had any experience with an actual warm day.

"Alright, I'll set up camp, and start in on lunch. I got us canned beans at the last gas station, a real splurge on my part I might add," Jim said chuckling as he rose slowly to his feet, stretching like a lazy cat in the afternoon sun. Spock nodded thoughtfully, too engrossed now in his book to respond. Jim smiled fondly at him and then got to work. 

The canned beans weren't too unpalatable once they were warmed over the fire Jim started, and they were both Kosher and vegetarian for both their dietary needs, so Jim couldn't find it in himself to complain about the lack of flavor.

They spent the rest of the sunlit hours reading by each other, Spock very nearly completing Jim's collection. He would most definitely have to stop by a bookshop in the next town they passed, to find something new for Spock to enjoy.

As the sun slowly sank below the treeline, Jim stoked the fire feeling light and full. This was one of their best days by far, and he was insanely glad he'd had them stop for the rest. It wasn't like either of them had a deadline to meet. If Amanda Grayson had stayed in California all this time, well she was probably still around- a sudden thought struck Jim as he placed his makeshift poker down, and glanced across the fire to Spock who was adding on another layer of flannel shirt as the night air took on a chill.

"Spock, I don't think I ever asked but- how do you know where your mom is?" Spock looked up immediately catching Jim’s eyes. He was quiet for a long time, eyes flashing in the fire light like burning coals. When he finally began to speak he turned his eyes downward to his tightly clasped hands.

“I was always aware of my- human nature, even from a young age. My birth was a failed experiment on my father's part. When he met my mother, he was part of a select group of Vulcan researchers who thought they could make peaceful contact with the people of Earth. My mother and I were part of their integration plan, we were meant to show the harmony that could be possible between our two cultures. It was at this time however that the Vulcan high council passed a treaty with Romulus over Earth. It became a no fly zone for Vulcans and subsequently, my father, his research team, and myself were forced to leave. My father never gave it up entirely though, and he has kept a careful eye on earth, as well as my mother.”Jim sat for a moment in silence to let the words sink in, worrying at his lip unconsciously. All of Spock's life seemed too much for Jim to know, and yet, here it was being shared with him. A science experiment, and a failed mission of peace, that was the burden Spock had lived with for eighteen years. 

“Does she know that you're here?” Jim finally asked because it was what Spock was after really, his mother and they didn’t need to dwell on anything but her.

“My father thought it best to sever contact with her. For her own safety.”

“You risked a lot coming here,” Jim voiced quietly. 

“Some risks greatly outweigh inaction Jim,” Spock uttered grimly, standing from his seat on the ground, and Jim felt certain it was time to change the subject. It was rare when Spock’s voice became so steely.

"So uh- on Vulcan, I know that the sciences are held in high esteem, but what about- the arts, do you put any weight on those?" Jim asked carefully, eyeing Spock cautiously. Spock’s shoulders dropped about an inch at his words, relief evident in his posture, and he shifted for a moment on his feet, considering Jim's words.

"We do have art, we write poetry and song, and pre-Surak architecture was important, but we do not see the point of other art forms unless they are in some way helping society as a whole," Spock said, but the words coming from his mouth sounded more like rote memorization rather than what he believed.

"But the purpose of the arts in and of itself is important because it’s meant to help society, it's what makes our civilization great. The first signs of intelligent humans painted on cave walls, art is what people live for," Jim said, surprising himself with how passionately he felt about the subject matter. It had never occurred to him to think of a world where art was seen as something lesser than, and unimportant to a fulfilled life

"I did not say I agreed, I found myself enjoying the art forms I've been exposed to during my time with you. Your music is- excitable but pleasant, and while your television isn't quite the educational thing I had thought it to be in the first place, it is relaxing to watch," Spock said, rubbing a hand over a tear in his jeans, playing with the flyaway strings, looking so very human in the orange glow of the fire.

"And what about dance- do Vulcan's dance?" Jim asked before he could think to stop himself, and he waited with bated breath for Spock to answer.

"In primary school, young Vulcan's are encouraged to dance for exercise. The movements are easily learned, and they wear you down fast. But beyond early schooling, no- Vuclan's do not dance," Spock stated, but to Jim, it looked like he was a little bit sad about this fact. Or maybe Jim was being an incorrigible human again by reading into things.

"I could teach you," Jim said, clenching his jaw tight as he finished, feeling his heartbeat against his ribs, lungs aching as he held his breath for Spock's answer.

"To dance?" Spock questioned, and Jim simply nodded his head, eyes glued to the fire as the silence stretched out between them.

"I suppose as I have come to reside on Earth permanently, I should learn to dance as humans do," Spock said matter of factly, walking carefully over to Jim’s side of the campfire. Jim startled up, taking a moment for himself to understand that this was actually happening, and Spock had really agreed. 

"Okay well let me just find a good song on the radio," Jim stuttered out, hands held up in a _just a moment_ gesture, and then rushed for the truck like a madman. He frantically flipped through dead stations, looking for anything slow, when suddenly the beginning keys to something soft and light came playing through the speakers. Grinning, Jim turned the volume all the way up and opened the truck door to let the noise play out into their camp.

_You might wake up some mornin'_

_To the sound of something moving past your window in the wind_

"I am not familiar with this song. Is it appropriate for dancing music?" Spock asked as Jim stepped back over to their spot.

"For the dancing, I'm teaching, it'll do," Jim said smiling, small and almost strained, but he forced a quick breath out before he carefully went to grab Spock's hand.

"If you don't mind?" Jim asked quietly, and Spock looked down at his hand silently for a moment before grabbing it, and Jim could not help but beam down at their entwined fingers. Jim's fingers tingled with the touch, a warmth bloomed unlike anything he'd ever felt, and he smiled wide as he placed his other hand on Spock's lower back.

"Okay, just uh, put your other hand on my shoulder and then we'll start with some easy footwork," Jim said quietly, keeping his eyes just past Spock's shoulder. Spock nodded, and slowly placed his other hand on Jim's shoulder, and again Jim felt himself shiver at the touch.

_Out on the new horizon._

_You may see the floating motion of a distant pair of wings_

"Just mirror what my feet do, I step back, you step forward," Jim said, leading them back mindfully, and Spock followed dutifully. After a moment, Spock was able to lift his gaze away from his feet as they did a careful box step, and Jim grinned unconsciously at the closeness of the act.

_Don't be concerned, it will not harm you_

_It's only me pursuing somethin' I'm not sure of_

"Now that you have that down we can do some more complicated moves," Jim said repeating the moves of the box step, but nudging Spock to turn as they do so. It wasn’t much of a waltz, but for someone who hasn't danced since primary school, Spock was light on his feet, easily following Jim's nonverbal cues to move a certain way. As the music picked up, Jim sped his steps up, and Spock followed easily enough, the tiniest of smiles curving his lips up, and Jim could have died happy at that moment. He laughed as they stumbled over a rock in the clearing, righting themselves with badly concealed humor.

_I might have even called your name_

_As I ran searching after something to believe in_

"Okay, want to try a spin?" Jim asked, trying not to laugh, and Spock nodded his head seriously. Jim grinned, and then slowly unfurled himself from the hold, dramatically throwing one arm out winning him an upturned eyebrow from Spock which was as good as a grin for him. He then slowly spun Spock back in, so that his chest was to Spock's back, and it was then that Jim felt he'd made some kind of horrible miscalculation.

_Across my dreams with nets of wonder_

_I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love_

Slowly Spock turned in his arms, eyes wide and breathing slightly hitched from their spinning waltz. It was like gazing at the night sky, clear of clouds as Jim's eyes met Spock's. The first time they had met Jim had been shocked by how dark those eyes were, but now, just inches apart Jim could see whole constellations of dark greens and blues, shining ambers, honey golds, and with each new color Jim saw his heart picked up speed. Their hands were clasped again, and it was like energy was being pumped into his body through his palms, and he wanted to lean forward to kiss Spock's flushed cheeks, his forehead, his nose. _His mouth_. And it was almost as if Jim could feel that was what Spock wanted too, through the thumping pulse between their entwined palms.

_Across my dreams with nets of wonder_

_I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love_

The song ended, and it felt so utterly abrupt to Jim that he took a hurried step back, as if waking from a pleasant but fleeting dream. Spock blinked a few times in rapid succession as their hands separated, still partially reaching for Jim. 

Jim could feel his face burning, in shame or embarrassment, the feelings were waging a pretty even war inside of him. _He hadn’t meant to- he didn’t think-_

“It’s uh- getting pretty late Spock, I think I’ll turn in for the night.” Jim turned away hurriedly, not wanting to imagine some form of disappointment in Spock’s face. That’s all it could be, Jim’s imagination, Spock wasn’t here for Jim. 

Silence hung heavy between them as Jim stalked away to turn off the crackling radio.

**~~~**

They had to make a supply run once they crossed the border into Utah. Jim almost argued himself out of it, they were only a state away from Nevada, and he knew from Sam's last few letters Bones and his family had moved his practice to Wells a year ago. It would only take a full day of driving to reach, but to be honest Jim knew he and Spock needed some time out of the truck and away from one another. The impromptu dancing lesson had left them stiff and Jim wasn’t sure if it was all in his head, or if Spock was giving him the cold shoulder as well, but no matter what, they needed a little space. 

So the first chance they got, Jim stopped off at a small convenience store for a resupply of canned baked beans, chips and refills of water. He instructed Spock carefully on the items they needed, handed him the appropriate amount of cash, and then promptly headed out to fill two jugs of water from the spigot outside.

As the water slowly filled up, Jim's eyes wandered. They were on the outskirts of a bigger town, bigger than any they'd stayed in before, so the amenities weren't half bad. The paint wasn't peeling, the windows weren't clouded with dust and dirt. It looked respectable. 

Maybe once they reached Amanda in San Francisco, she'd feel comfortable showing Spock an actual city, an actual thriving system of people. All Jim has been able to give him was the scraps, the roadside diners, motel beds, and low star cooking. Jim could feel a pang of guilt and jealousy building in his chest. He wanted the best for Spock because they were friends now, and- all he could hope for was that Amanda Grayson was really all she's cracked up to be. A woman who caught the attention of an alien researcher. A woman good enough to bring two foreign cultures together. 

Yeah, Jim hoped she was something alright.

He startled as he noticed the water pouring over onto his boots, and he quickly shoved the second jug under the spigot, cursing as he felt the wet soak into his socks. He kept his eyes and mind on his task this time as it filled up, and promptly turned the spigot off once it was full. He lugged the two jugs back to the truck and tucked them away carefully behind the mattress so there was little chance of them sliding around in the back. He recovered the back of the truck with a sigh, glancing back to the doors of the convenience store. He could just make Spock out at the cash register, piling the goods upon the counter. Jim's eyes strayed to the side and suddenly they lit upon a phone booth.

Jim ran around to the front of the truck and quickly pulled open the door to rummage through the change collector, and then with another wary glance in the direction of the store, made his way to the booth. 

It was a number he'd had memorized since he was six. The line rang and rang to a point Jim wasn’t sure if she'd pick up. What time was it in Iowa anyway? He shouldn't be doing this now, he hadn’t called her in over a month and _what is he supposed to-_

"This is the Kirk household, Winona Kirk speaking."

" _Mom_." the word came out of his mouth like a sigh of relief, he couldn’t even help it. There was a small hitch of breath on the other end of the telephone and he waited patiently for her to reply.

"James?"

"Yeah Ma, it's me. I'm sorry I haven't- did you get that last bundle of cash I sent you?" Jim asked, worrying at his lower lip.

"James, I thought you weren’t going to call here anymore?” his mother's voice comes out weak over the phone line, strained with worry, with an anxious sort of tremble only a mother could pull off. Jim tightened his hand around the phone and tried to keep himself from fidgeting too much in the small booth.

“No I know, but- there was a change of plans. I never made it to Ontario-”  
  
“You weren’t detained, were you? James, I can’t- if they have you I can’t-” her voice jumped half an octave, and Jim pulled his ear away from the receiver before quickly cutting her off.

“ _No_ , Ma, nothing like that. I had a friend who was in trouble, and I had to help him out, but I just thought you should know, and I was wondering if you had any news about- Sam,” Jim swallowed hard, eyes glued to the dirtied glass of the phone booth. His mother's breaths slowed until he wasn’t sure she was breathing at all anymore.

“James they- _they sent back his stuff_. All his letters and books,” her voice cut off, and there was a large intake of breath before she shakily continued. “James, they don’t think he’s alive.”

It had been months since the letter. The one printed on shiny white paper, in an intelligent looking font, typed and exquisitely set. _We regret to inform you._ We regret to inform you we’ve lost your son, your brother, your friend and mentor. We regret to inform you Samuel R. Kirk is missing in action. 

And now they think-

“It’s-” _Fine? Okay? No, it wasn’t either of those, but-_ “it’s good to hear from you mom. Listen, I’ve got to- I’ve got to go now, but I’ll try to send more money when I can, I’m in between jobs right now but once this is all cleared up I can.”

“ _James-_ ” He hung up. Harder than he’d meant to, and the clash of plastic on metal rings in the air, in his ears, and he could feel tears burning his eyes.

“ _Jim?_ ”

Jim startled, turning away from the phone to see Spock, arms laden with their goods, looking unusually concerned. Jim clenched his fists tight and steeled himself for any questions that Spock might have.

“Come on, we still have a couple more hours of light, I’d like to be in Nevada by tomorrow,” Jim said, stalking past Spock with his back straight and eyes on the truck. Spock turned after him stiltedly, mouth turned down in the smallest of frowns, before picking up his pace to match Jim’s.

“You appear distressed Jim, is it safe for you to be driving?” 

“I’m fine,” Jim opened up the car door forcefully, making the old metal hinges groan with the jerked motion. Spock eyed him carefully, before opening his own door one handed, and placing their food at the floor of his seat. 

“If you would like to speak to me about what is- bothering you, I am available for-”  
  
“Drop it, Spock,” Jim snapped.

“I only meant to offer help,” Spock replied, shoulders tensing at Jim’s tone, but he couldn’t stop. There was something angry and violent inside him and _he couldn’t_.

“I just don’t think you're the best judge of people's emotions.”

Spock didn't give Jim the benefit of seeing any emotion cross his face, it went slack before he nodded once, and turned his back to look out the window. 

For a fleeting moment Jim wanted to take it back, open his mouth to apologize for being such an ass but- _what was he supposed to say?_ How could he condense it all down into a palatable story where he didn’t feel like breaking? He couldn’t. So he kept his mouth shut and drove.

**~~~**

They fell asleep on opposite sides of the camp that night, after a silent and tense dinner of canned black beans. They tasted like nothing in Jim’s mouth, just something to fill his churning stomach. 

The groan of cicadas was near deafening that night, but Jim fell asleep nonetheless, emotionally and physically exhausted. And he dreamed.

_They were having pot roast for dinner. Jim knew because he could smell it, wafting through the kitchen, making his mouth water. His mother was at the oven now, watching through the glass as it cooked, her mouse brown hair tied up in a pretty little bun, something she rarely did nowadays._

_Jim couldn't remember the last time she'd had the energy to do her hair._

_But they were having pot roast tonight, and Jim knew because they were all seated around the table, faces stuffed full, and Jim was trying not to smile because his mother would call out his bad manners, and Sam would laugh and then it would be a whole mess of trying to contain joy in the face of their mother's annoyance. And Jim's father was there too, seated across from him, solid and real looking. And not dead._

_He was dead, wasn't he?_

_But they were having pot roast, and Sam was talking about what his next semester of college was going to look like, even though Jim was sure he'd graduated already. And a job, he had a job, didn't he? Wasn't he out of the house now?_

_But the next semester of college sounded jam-packed, and Jim didn't want to interrupt, didn't want to correct the wrongness, because everything felt right, and in its place. And they were having a pot roast for dinner. That was right, pot roast for dinner, and his dad across the table, and his brother home from college._

_"_ **_You left Jim_ ** _," Sam said, through a mouthful of pot roast, and their mother scolded him, but it was like she was a hundred miles away, muffled and underwater._

_"When did I do that?" Jim tried to ask, tried to make it sound like a joke because- he hadn't left, he was here wasn't he. He was here._

_"You left and_ **_I'm dead Jim_ ** _," Sam said, laying his fork down on the table, and Jim just stared at it, couldn't bring himself to look Sam in the eyes._

_"You left the farm James, you left your mother," Jim's father said across the table, and his eyes were dark, a much darker brown than in Jim's memory. Almost black. Jim looked down at his pot roast to get away from those dark, dark eyes. But in the second he'd looked away from his meal it had turned into a grotesque still-beating heart, unattached to a body, and Jim tried to scream but nothing came out of his mouth._

_"You left me and now I'm dead Jim, why would you leave me?" Sam cried, and there was blood in his mouth now, dripping over his lips, and staining his teeth, and Jim tried to shut his eyes but it was like his eyelids were see-through, and he was forced to watch as more blood spurted forth, as Sam stood, pleading with Jim._

_"If you'd gone, if you'd done your duty I wouldn't be dead Jim- Dad wouldn't be dead Jim," Sam yelled, and flecks of the oozing blood hit Jim's face and he could feel tears down his cheeks now. Because his mother and father and the dining room were gone, and he was alone, with this horrifying imitation of his brother, and Jim felt bile rise in his throat, choking his airways, choking him, choking him and then-_

_Jim was in a field, he could tell it had recently been tilled, and it felt familiar, but it was no place he had ever been. The sky was not blue, and the ground was a dark red clay. This was not his farm but- He felt at peace, he had come here for comfort when his classmates had teased him when his father had turned him away without a word of validation. He had come here before he had left. Left Vulcan, and his home and-_

Jim shot up, heart pounding and brain buzzing horribly like something was inside of it, and Spock was there tumbled onto the ground looking, for once, like he was actually feeling something, and it did not look like a pleasant emotion. 

The bile that was rising in Jim's throat while he'd dreamt came for real now and he turned to his side and heaved that nights' dinner up, trembling with adrenaline and fear. 

"I did not-" Spock muttered, hands covering his face, shoulders shuddering, and Jim looked up unsteadily, trying to piece together what had just happened.

"Spock?" Jim said weakly, sitting up uncomfortably slow, and Spock scuttled backward like a scared animal.

"I did not mean to," Spock said, voice stronger but tinged in evident fear, remorse, and guilt. It stopped Jim in his tracks.

"What did you do?" But Jim already knew, in some twisted way. Those hadn't been his memories at the end. That had been a field on Vulcan, a place Spock had gone to for comfort. _Spock had been in his mind._

“I only meant to wake you,” Spock muttered, his breath uneven and stilted and the sense of uncalm in him set Jim on edge.

“ _What did you do?_ ” Jim repeated, standing up on shaky legs, wanting to feel the ground beneath his feet. To feel stable for a moment. Spock looked up at him with fear in his eyes, _human_ fear.

“I have never felt anything like- I could not help but-”  
  
“You were in my head,” Jim snapped, not as a question but as a statement, and Spock nodded his head still looking shell shocked. 

“So you know- you saw-” Jim couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t _understand_.

“Jim, _I did not mean to_ ,” Spock said again, almost pleading, hands outstretched, leaving Jim unsure of what to do. It was too much, it was way too much to comprehend right now and-

A shot rang out across the camp, and this time Spock startled, eyes wide with unconcealed panic. Just ten feet in front of them stood a burning crater where a beam of red hot energy had been shot, and Jim could feel his throat constricting. They stared at the blackened spot of earth in silent shock. 

" _Run_ ," Jim breathed out, not waiting even a moment to gather his stuff, taking off for the truck with little abandon. Spock was on his heels when another blast was shot and at the sound of contact, Jim felt himself freeze. Spock stumbled to the ground, hand gripping tight to his side, where green blood was seeping through his fingers. 

Jim rushed to him immediately pulling him up, carefully guiding him to the truck, his mind roaring with anger and guilt. Just as he opened the door to the truck's front cab, he caught sight of the figure at the edge of the clearing, a person Jim had only briefly glanced at but recognized nonetheless. 

It was the younger Romulan soldier from all those weeks ago, standing tall, and grim, a dark smile etched into his face. His gun was held aloft, pointed directly at Jim's chest. Jim froze, cradling Spock’s dead weight like a lifeline. 

“You don’t have to die too you know,” The Romulan spoke softly like he was talking to a scared kitten, all dulcet tones and smooth words. It sent a shiver down Jim’s spine.

“And what’ll happen to him,” Jim said, somehow, and the Romulan soldier rolled his eyes.

“He broke our laws, he ran, our punishments are not light.” 

Spock groaned softly in Jim’s arms, and Jim glanced down at him in worry. His eyes were fluttering open and closed, but he didn’t seem aware of their surroundings any longer. Jim needed a distraction.

“Where’s your partner huh, if it’s so important you get rid of Spock why are you here alone?” Jim snapped, and through the dim light of the fire, he could see the Romulan’s eyes flash with annoyance.

“My compatriot gave up the search, didn’t think you were worth it. But I serve the Empire loyally, and I’ve spent weeks devising a way to track his inhuman blood,” the Romulan grinned, and from his pocket, he pulled out a blinking, silvery device. 

So it was just the one Jim had to worry about at least.

“So what? I hand him over and then I’m free? Is that the deal?” Jim asked, adjusting his grip on Spock who was slipping farther into unconsciousness.

“Your species has no plight with the Emperor, as long as you stand out of my way you’re free to go,” the Romulan snapped impatiently.

“Alright then, I’ll put him down,” Jim nodded once slowly, then began to lower Spock carefully onto the ground. As soon as Spock was safely in place, Jim rushed the guy. 

The Romulan had been too close for his own good and had obviously not been expecting this human boy to run directly at him. Jim hit him straight on and then went tumbling to the ground hard. 

The phaser went flying from the Romulan’s hands, and Jim was able to get one good punch in before he was rolled over and forced down, his head hitting the ground with a sickening _thunk_. At once the Romulan’s hands were around his neck, thick fingers cutting off his airways immediately, and Jim could barely even struggle to stop it. Spock had told him there were similarities in physique between the two species, but Jim hadn't taken into account increased strength to be one of them. Truthfully Jim hadn't been thinking anything when he'd decided to tackle the guy. He'd just been angry. Furious. 

“It’s unfortunate he dragged you into this, but you’ve both broken the rules now,” The Romulan sneered down at Jim, his thin fingers tightening around Jim’s throat. Jim tried to get a grip anywhere, tried to push, but it was like he was being pinned by an elephant.

It was just as his vision started to blur that Jim saw out of the corner of his eyes the phaser, now hidden in high grass, but in arm's reach of him. In his possible last moment of consciousness, he snuck his hand out, reaching, reaching to grab the phaser.

The last expression Jim saw on the Romulan's face before the shot went off, was that of shock. And then without much fanfare, he toppled off of Jim, body lifeless and heavy, and Jim crawled away coughing horribly, hand still tightly gripping the phaser. It was a groan from across the campsite that tore his attention away from the crumpled form of the Romulan, and suddenly Jim was back in his own body, and he could feel with blinding clarity all of his aches and pains, and he remembered Spock bundled up near the passenger's seat of the truck. 

Standing up felt like a chore, but Jim was able to pull himself up slowly, and then he was rushing and tripping over himself to get back to the truck. 

Spock's eyes were closed and his face slack, but as soon as Jim looked for a pulse he was able to find one. With the barest sigh of relief, Jim lifted Spock as carefully as he could the rest of the way into the truck then shut the door and raced to the other side. 

"You're going to be fine Spock, I'm going to make sure of it, _okay?_ " Jim said, voice no louder than a whisper, and of course, there was no response, but it hardened Jim's resolve nonetheless.

They were off into the night not five minutes later, with an old friend in mind, and the phaser still gripped in Jim's hand.


	5. Chapter 5

Jim only vaguely knew where he was going, pulling far off memories from a trip he’d taken two years ago with his brother. Leonard McCoy had been about the only person at Sam Kirk’s university he could stand, and as soon as he’d been brought home for a Thanksgiving dinner the rest of the Kirks couldn’t have agreed more. Despite the fact he was a med student, and Sam majored in agricultural engineering, the two stayed close even after graduation. Bones was practically one of the family and Jim still counted him as a close friend. After graduating he’d moved out to Arizona to live closer to his fiance’s family, which is where Jim was trying to go right now. 

Jim had fumbled for the map stuffed under the seat about an hour ago and was navigating it in the dark. Panic was coursing through his veins, making his hands shake at the wheel, and his heart beat like a staccato drum. Spock had gone completely unconscious awhile ago, and Jim had stopped off in heart clenching fear to dress the wound as best he could. Spock's pulse was down to a snail's pace, barely there under Jim's quivering touch, but if he could just make it-

Jim swerved as the bend in the road came up, along dusty path, to a two story house painted robins egg blue. No lights in the house were glowing, but it was nearly 3 in the morning. Jim would just have to hope he'd be loud enough to wake someone from their sleep. 

He pressed down hard on the accelerator not wanting to wait a minute more to get help, and he pulled up to the house in a cloud of dust. He barely gave himself time to turn off the ignition before he was jumping from the vehicle.

He had to still his shaking hand before he could knock on the door properly. The house stayed silent, and Jim bit down hard on his cheek, before rattling the screen door several times. He was about ready to bust the door down himself when a light in the hallway flickered on, followed by low sounds of muttered cursing.

The door slammed open to reveal the tired face of Miriam McCoy, dark hair piled in curlers on her head, her mouth twisted into a frown before she caught sight of Jim's face, and then it quickly turned to shock.

“James- what on Earth are you doing here?” Miriam stared at him wide eyed from the doorway, face pinched, green eyes pale and tired. 

“I’m sorry for the late hour, I was looking for Bo-  _ Leonard _ ,” Jim said, shrugging his shoulders quickly in apology. Miriam’s lips pursed uncomfortably tight, eyes going flinty. Jim should have expected her to answer the door; he knew she was an insomniac. 

“Lenny’s not here- won’t be anymore,” Miram said, almost snapped, and Jim took a fast step back at her harsh tone but Miriam’s mouth shut quickly her face flushing pink.

“I didn’t mean- oh gosh James it’s late, why don’t you come in and I’ll-” Miriam tried, stepping away from the door to invite him in but Jim quickly shook his head.

“I can't, I've got a-” Jim stopped mid sentence. He couldn’t tell her what the problem was, she'd call him crazy, or worse, she’d call the police. “I’ve got to go.” Jim finished.

“What  _ are  _ you doing here James?” Miriam asked again, her eyes flicking up to the second story of the house. 

“I just need to speak to Leonard, if you could tell me where he is?” Jim stopped, turning to her pleadingly, and Miriam pulled her robe around her just a little tighter.

“He’s at his practice, I think that’s where he’s been sleeping. It’s just on the main street, just past the liquor store,” Mirima finally bit out, her hand inching towards the door handle. 

“Thanks Miriam, I-I’m sorry for bothering you,” Jim said quickly, turning away from her before she could ask him again to come inside. He took one step off the porch and then he rushed for the truck.

He cursed his luck as he tore away from the house, catching one last glimpse of Miriam, weary looking and a small in her bathrobe and curlers. Jim gave himself a moment to feel angry at her, he'd known vaguely they'd been having troubles even before Sam had left for Vietnam. He couldn't imagine a scenario where Bones hadn't tried everything to keep his family together. 

But it was the past now apparently, and Jim had to keep his eyes open for Bones’s practice in the dark. Jim glanced over at Spock, whose breathing had become even more shallow, his chest rising and falling maybe every minute or so now. The blood from his wound, however, began to ebb, so he had at least something to cling to for hope. He wouldn't let Spock die on him tonight.

The road became more populated with buildings and Jim kept his eyes peeled for any signs or directions to go, feeling his heart spike when nearly twenty minutes after starting out the truck sped past a liquor store and then a dimly lit  _ health clinic _ . Slamming on the breaks, Jim did a U-turn, no care for his own safety on the road, and made his way quickly back to the sign, and the outlet in which the practice was a part of. He parked the car and hopped out as fast as he could, racing to the door of the clinic, whose lights were out, but Jim was hoping beyond hope Bones would be able to hear him.

The first few knocks went on unheeded, but Jim kept at it, adding in several calls of  _ Bones _ , and  _ Leonard _ , until after just a few minutes the front light turned on and the door was slammed open by the grimacing face of Leonard McCoy M.D. 

"James?" was the first thing out his mouth, but Jim didn't have time to explain or to calm Bones's nerves, he simply grabbed his arm and pulled him to the truck and to Spock.

"Jim, what in the hell are you doing here? What on Earth are you-" Bones stopped once his eyes landed on Spock's prone form, looking so weak and lifeless that Jim had to take a moment for himself to not feel completely hopeless.

"I need your help Bones, I'll explain- I will, but you have to help him," Jim pleaded, gripping the truck's open door for strength, and Bones tightened his robe around himself before nodding his head warily.

"Alright- alright Jim, help me bring him inside, " Bones muttered, motioning for Jim to grab under Spock's arms while he took his legs. Together they carefully maneuvered him into the clinic, and at every jostle, Jim felt his heart jump into his throat, sure this time it would have been too much.

But they made it to Bones’s observation room, settling him carefully onto the examination table, and Bones immediately began rushing around the room, pulling rubbing alcohol from the cupboards, as well as needles and sutures, muttering as he went about  _ crazy kids  _ and  _ irresponsible  _ and  _ dangerous stunts. _ Jim didn't have it in him to correct the assumption.

It wasn't until Bones was turning on the light in the room, preparing to clean the wound that he stopped dead in his tracks at the green staining Spock’s shirt and skin. Jim felt his heart rabbit out of control before Bones was shaking his head and cutting away at Spock’s borrowed sweater. 

Jim had to turn away at the nasty color the skin around the wound had gone, but Bones didn't so much as utter a gasp, as he began to clean away the blood, careful to not aggravate the skin any more than it already was.

Jim sat down once Bones got to work on the stitches, cradling his head in hands, as finally, the adrenaline of the night wore off. Jim wasn't sure how long he sat like that, halfway between sleep and awake, but finally, as the sunlight began to stream in through the window, Bones put down his needle and snipped the sutures with a small pair of scissors. As soon as the cut had been made, and Bones had taken a step back to breathe, he turned on Jim with a dark look.

"Now it's time for you to explain Jim," Bones said, motioning towards the door, and Jim stood warily, feeling his legs shake at the effort. Bones watched him with little sympathy and followed him out the door quietly, making sure not to slam the door and disturb Spock.

"I don't really know where to begin, " Jim said staring forlornly at the door to where Spock was still, and Bones snapped his fingers in front of Jim's face.

"The beginning is usually a good place for that. What's his name?" Bones asked, face stern, but Jim knew him well enough to know it was all from deep concern. 

"His name’s Spock. His uh- ship crash-landed near my campsite," Jim said, and while he was rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously, keeping his eyes low, he could hear Bones take in a deep breath, and then let it out.

"Okay, and why is he still with you, huh?" Bones asked, nudging his shoulder to keep him talking.

"He's looking for his mom, she's human, apparently, and I couldn't just leave him to go alone- there are these- other aliens after him," Jim ended weakly as Bones eyebrows rose higher and higher.

"You got yourself involved in an interstellar conflict? Jim of all the stupid things I've heard from you, that is by far the worst," Bones snapped, and then quickly glanced at the door in worry. His next words came out lower. "Is that how he got injured, because I have to say, I've never seen wounds like that."

"It's- they're called phasers, they're like beams of intense light- somehow they don't cauterize the wound at the same time, I don't know- Spock tried to explain it to me once, " Jim said waving a hand around to move away from this point in the conversation. "He's gonna be okay, right- he's stable?"

"To be honest Jim, no patient of mine has ever stayed under that long before. Did he hit his head too, I'm afraid he might have a concussion- if that's possible for him,” Bones said, frowning in annoyance, and Jim just shook his head.

"No, it was just the shot- but, sometimes he can put himself in this trance- he doesn't really sleep, I think he might be in one of those now, trying to help the healing process out-" Jim said haltingly, feeling his cheeks go red at Bones’s critical look.

"I know it sounds crazy alright, but the last month of my life has been nothing but crazy. He can get drunk off chocolate, he meditates to heal, he can memorize and learn a language in a week Bones. He's an alien!" Jim snapped, and Bones ran a weary hand over his face, going to sit finally on a bench in his office hallway. 

"You're right it's crazy Jim- you know what his blood is- copper, why it's green. It's iodized, damn peculiar. Wonder how they evolved that way," Bones said methodically, rubbing at his fingertips where green blood was still flecked.

"Thank you- for helping him," Jim said finally, taking a seat next to Bones and letting his head rest back against the wall.

"Listen, kid, I wouldn't care if he had two heads, I trust you enough I'd help any of your friends. So what he's a medical marvel," Bones said chuckling.

“All the same, thanks,” Jim said weakly, and Bones patted his knee in a comforting manner.

"There's a cot in the back room, you should take it. You look dead on your feet," Bones said after a moment, and Jim was about to shake his head  _ No  _ when Bones sent him a hard look.

"I'll watch over him, no sense in you being sleep deprived before he wakes up. He's stable as far as I know," Bones scolded him, and Jim let out a sigh, before standing again, this time with more ease, but with the same ache as before.

"You'll come to get me as soon as he's awake though, right?" Jim said just as he was about to leave the room entirely. Bones rolled his eyes but nodded his head just the same as he disappeared back into the observation room. Jim sighed and headed to the backroom to finally rest his eyes.

But Jim couldn't sleep, had been trying to for the past hour but it simply would not take him. There was an ache in his chest he just couldn't seem to shake, hadn't been able to shake since he'd looked out over the rolling plains of Vulcan, had felt the soil beneath his feet and the hot air on his skin. 

He had been angry, so angry at the intrusion into his mind but- there was an ever-growing part of himself, tucked away, hoping to experience the same thing again. There had been a comfort of not being alone, of having memories to share and revel in. 

He couldn't help it. He wanted Spock to share his mind again, wanted to have the company in his lonely head. It had felt so warm, and calm and for a moment, a brief moment, Jim was sure he had felt- but it couldn't have been, it was just Jim's own feelings. Wishful thinking, Spock didn't think like a human. Didn’t  _ feel  _ like a human.

**~~~**

At some point, as Jim stared blankly up at the ceiling, he had fallen into a restless doze, only to be awoken by- "Up and at 'em sleeping Beauty, he's awake- for the most part.” 

Bones was standing over him, hands on his hips, having changed out of his dirtied pajamas. He was wearing a pair of Levi jeans and a clean blue shirt, but everything else about his appearance was still haggard and in disarray. Jim did not mention any of this to him.

"What do you mean somewhat?" Jim asked, groaning slightly as he pulled himself off the cot, his body protesting each movement. 

"He's in and out. I keep telling him he needs his rest, but he’s damn insistent that he sees you first," Bones said jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the observation room.

"He wants to see me?” Jim asked, getting to his feet and moving past Bones to make his way back to Spock's room. After how they’d left things before the attack he’d been certain Spock would want nothing to do with him. After seeing all that was going on in Jim’s head.

"Yeah, he’s almost as stubborn as you, if that were even possible," Bones said nonchalantly and Jim turned back to him in shock.

"He really is okay though, right- from what you can tell?" Jim asked moving his body to block the door before they both could enter. Bones’s face softened a smidge, less cynical and more sympathetic.

"Well he’s not bleeding profusely anymore, his heart beat is steady, although it’s where our livers are, and the fact he’s regained consciousness seems to be pointing towards recovery," Bones said, and before Jim could try to pry further information, Bones was twisting around him to open the door.

To Jim, Spock looked miles better than the night before, his skin was less ashen, with a healthier tint. As soon as the door was ajar Spock’s eyes flicked open, moving instantly to Jim. As Bones moved further into the room Jim stuck to the doorway, unable to make his feet move an inch more. 

"Spock?" Jim asked quietly, as Spock continued to stare silently.

" _ Jim _ ," Spock breathed out, sitting up quickly, then placing a hand on his head for a moment, grimacing. Jim moved forward to check on him, and Spock leaned into his touch easily.

Jim held him for a few moments before he realized Bones was still in the room.

"Alright you’ve seen him, kid, he’s safe, now lay  _ down _ ," Bones said with an eye roll, tone a bit harsh, but his hands looked gentle as he moved around Jim and slowly lowered Spock back down onto the cot.

“I thought you said he was okay?” Jim said refusing to move now that he was by Spock’s side and Bones gave him a flat look.

“I’m no miracle worker Jim, he got  _ shot  _ for Christsakes, he needs rest,” Bones said, grabbing his stethoscope from his work table.   
  
“Your friend is right Jim, I am certain I will recover all my faculties with a day’s rest,” Spock said somewhat comfortingly, and Jim stepped back slightly to let Bones start his check up examination.

“Right, sorry, I just- I was worried is all,” Jim said and both Spock and Bones turned to look at him, one with soft eyes the other slightly incredulous. 

“I’ll let you two catch up in a minute Jim, now Spock I’ll need you to breath in once for me, tell me if it starts to hurt.” Jim stepped back farther as Bones finished his check up, waiting patiently by the counter, and every few minutes he and Spock would catch each other's eyes, and Jim would smile hesitantly. 

After a very quick five minutes Bones stepped away from Spock looking satisfied. He nodded respectfully to Spock, and then turned to Jim, nodding his head in Spock's direction.

"He's all yours, just don't keep him up too long, it's all up to him if he wants to get back into working shape again," Bones said, sending a warning look in Spock's direction, who matched it with a blank stare that Bones rolled his eyes at. 

Bones waved as he exited the room, and Jim took a few cheerful steps towards the bed. Spock watched his every move, turning his head to be more comfortable with it. Disliking the height advantage Jim had with Spock laying down, he pulled over a stool to sit down. 

"You really are feeling better right? You're not hiding any injuries this time?" Jim asked, frowning a little at a bruise at Spock's temple. Spock shook his head and Jim let himself relax a bit more.

"Doctor McCoy took good care of me, surprising considering the difference in my biology," Spock said, a hint of admiration in his voice that made Jim smile.

"Yeah, Bones is a real genius, he could have his choice of hospital to work in but- he's a good man and he likes to help the people who can't afford the care in city hospitals," Jim said with a shrug, casting his eyes in the direction of the empty doorway.

"You have exceptional taste in friends then," Spock said smiling faintly, and Jim turned back to look at him.

"I'd like to think I do, yeah," at his words, Spock's eyes skittered away from his face, the hands at his sides clenching. Jim let the silence sit for a moment, just watching as whatever was going through Spock's mind made its way into coherent thoughts.

"Jim before the attack, before we were interrupted-" Spock stopped his eyes flitting briefly to Jim's face and then back to the tiled floor.

"Spock you don't have to-"

"I would like to explain my actions Jim, please," Spock asked, refusing to look up, and Jim snapped his mouth shut.

"What you experienced, what I did- It is referred to as a Mind-Meld on my planet, a- bridge of consciousnesses. It is a practice that has gone out of style on Vulcan. When I went to wake you, I did not mean to make such a connection. I am untrained and when I felt - when I felt your turmoil I could not help but want to stop it. I only wanted to end your pain," Spock choked out, lips a thin line, his knuckles white with how tensely he was holding them.

"And you did Spock, you showed me Vulcan, it was-"

"It was wrong of me, to enter one's mind without permission, to push upon you memories of my own, I should not be forgiven I- '' Spock stopped suddenly, quickly moving one of his hands up to swipe at his eyes. The tips of his fingers came away wet, and unconsciously Jim went to grab it. Spock tensed only for a moment as Jim held his hand loosely, feeling Spock's tears in his palm.

“I am sorry Jim- I had no intention of-”

“It’s  _ okay _ . I’m just glad you're better,” Jim said, grasping Spock’s hand tighter, trying to express to the best of his ability that it was in the past. Spock closed his eyes tight, still slightly wet with tears, continuing to let Jim hold his hand without complaint.

“Can you-” Jim stopped himself for a moment, and Spock's eyes opened to focus their attention on him. Jim swallowed self consciously, before continuing. “Can you feel what I’m feeling just through this,” Jim asked as he adjusted his grip on Spock’s hand. Spock looked to their entwined fingers, and just barely frowned

“Just your surface emotions, mainly relief, and joy, and-” Spock’s eyes widened slowly, and Jim fought the urge to rip his hand away. He knew what was coming but- he wanted Spock to know, to let him see it was okay to know.

“Grief Jim- I feel grief,” Spock whispered, and Jim nodded slowly.

“There’s a lot I’ve been keeping from you Spock, and I should've just been truthful from the start because to be honest Spock, I care about you. And you shouldn’t hold people you care about at arm's length,” Jim said quietly, running his thumb carefully over Spock’s knuckles.

“Jim you do not have to-” Spock tried to pull his hand away, looking embarrassed but Jim quickly stopped him.

“You’re not prying Spock, I want to be- I want to be more truthful with you,” Jim said, pulling Spock’s hand back into his lap to hold close. Spock let him, his cheeks glowing with a soft blush.

"We all keep things hidden Jim, you do not owe me," Spock said softly, and Jim nodded, smiling sadly, and then he began.

"There's a war going on- I don't if you- I'm sure you know about it, but they're sending anyone who can fight, anyone without money or access to education that is," Jim laughed bitterly, wiping a hand over his face to calm down.

"I was supposed to stay out of it, four years of protection from a school of my choice. But then my brother Sam got drafted, and-  _ he was happy about it _ . Had this whole thing about wanting to do his duty like our dad had, which was all just bullshit. Fighting fascism is a little different than communism." Jim rolled his eyes, voice taking on a sardonic tone, Spock’s face didn’t change as he continued to listen attentively. 

"But when Sam left, my mom couldn't upkeep the farm on her own  _ and  _ pay for my college, so I dropped out to help her. We would get letters from Sam every few months, about how shitty basic training was and all this banal shit, and then suddenly he stopped writing." Jim paused as his mouth suddenly became dry. 

"I got a draft letter a week after my brother was reported missing in action Spock, and I was so scared. God, I still am, because I didn't want to fucking kill, anybody. And then I went ahead and did it anyway. To get away I had to- I thought I had to. He was choking me, he was going to kill me, and so I took his phaser, but-" Jim took a deep breath, tried to stop the shaking in his hands.

Spock was silent, and Jim didn’t dare look up to see even the smallest form of revulsion and disgust in Spock’s eyes. He’d said his piece, and Spock could judge him for what he really was now. But then slowly, and oh so carefully, Spock brought their joined hands up onto the bed, and laid his other palm on top of Jim’s hand.

"There may have been a way you could have avoided the death of the Romulan soldier. If we'd had the time or ability we may have even been able to talk him out of attacking us, but- you are human and I've found that you, in particular, Jim, do what has to be done in the- heat of the moment," Spock's hand tightened around Jim's and through the touch, Jim could feel-  _ warmth _ . Not physical, but  _ emotional  _ warmth seeping from Spock’s fingertips.

"This does not mean that I am washing away your concerns, you are allowed to grieve the loss of life, even if that loss was of an enemy," Spock continued, even as Jim refused to look up, keeping his eyes on their entwined hands.

"Not very Vulcan of you is it," Jim choked out jokingly, feeling the ache in his chest lessen slightly. Spock didn't smile exactly, just kept hold of his hand, leaving the warm feeling between them.

"Surak's teachings are important to me in many ways, but I've been speaking to Doctor Mccoy and he has some very- strong opinions on emotional balance in humans. I do not fault you for needing to feel," Spock said magnanimously, and Jim laughed softly.

"Well thanks for that, I appreciate it."

"You are welcome." And Spock did smile this time, as Jim quickly wiped at his eyes, feeling like for once in a very long time, he was not carrying such a heavy burden.

They sat quietly for a long time after that, it was easy to now with this uneasy connection of touch between them. Jim knew Spock was allowing him to feel his own emotions, just as he could read Jim’s and it was- it was enthralling. But even alien mind reading can lose its sheen when your stomach starts to protest the several missed meals of the past day.

"You think Bones will let me steal from his fridge without throwing a fit?" Jim asked with a slow smirk, and Spock raised an eyebrow at him.

"I find the only way to see is to try- for experimental purposes of course," Spock said wisely, the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly. 

“Alright- well, try to get some rest while I’m gone. Bones’ll skin me alive if I keep you up any longer,” Jim said with a soft smile, and Spock nodded sagely before laying his head down onto his pillow determinedly.

Jim left the room with a grin and feeling of contentment, unlike anything he thought possible after the events of the last few days. Things had worked out and he and Spock were okay, better even than before.

He entered the back room of the clinic feeling about ready to break out into a lively little whistle when a cough from the middle of the room made him jump.

“You seem rather cheery, for someone who just escaped a firefight with an alien,” Bones’s voice grumbled around a sandwich stuffed full of bacon, lettuce, and tomato. Jim took a moment to control his facial features as he finished making his way into the room, shutting the door quietly behind himself.

“Just- glad Spock is okay. Do you have anything else to eat?” Jim asked, feeling his heartbeat flutter as Bones continued to stare him down, even as he did his best to shift the focus off himself. He headed to the small kitchenette he hadn’t noticed earlier and began rummaging through the cabinets.

Bones stayed blissfully quiet as Jim continued his search for food, quietly enjoying his sandwich. Finally, Jim gave up and turned back to Bones.

“We had a fight before- ya know. But it’s okay now and it’s nice- not fighting anymore,” Jim said quickly, watching as Bones stuffed falling lettuce back into his BLT.

"You care about him huh?" Bones asked, before taking a large bite of his sandwich.

"Yeah, he's - I don't know Bones, I don't know how to explain it really," Jim said, leaning against the kitchen counter warily, but Bones only nodded solemnly once.

"The best relationships are like that," Bones said softly, setting his sandwich down and heading around the kitchen island to help Jim, grabbing a hidden package of paper plates. He motioned for Jim to grab him the sliced wonder bread near the toaster, as he began to rifle through the fridge.

“A BLT without bacon for you- what’s he want?” Bones asked as he pulled a Tupperware of sliced tomatoes and a head of lettuce from his vegetable drawer.

“You think you could whip him up a salad?” Jim asked sheepishly, but Bones only nodded his head as he pulled some other greens from his fridge.

“You keep this pretty well stocked huh?” Jim said carefully, as he built his own sandwich from the ingredients Bones left on the counter.

“Well ever since Miriam kicked me out I’ve been living out of here.”

“I didn’t know things had gotten that bad Bones, I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault kid, me and Miri have always had our problems. My only concern is Jo, I know my marriage is over and that's for the best but- I’m worried what it’ll do to her.”

"So what's your plan moving forward? Are you gonna get a house here for yourself?" Jim asked, handing Bones a bowl from the cabinets. Bones shrugged as he began pulling leaves from the lettuce head, and Jim waited patiently for a more verbal answer.

"Honestly Jim, I have half a mind to move back down south. The only thing stopping me is Joanna. If I can't see her every day I- I don't know what would do," Bones finished quietly, throwing in the lettuce to the bowl. 

"Is there any chance you and Miriam could-?'

"Get back together? No, once she settles on something she's settled, she's already sent for divorce papers. I'm in no place to cause trouble there Jim, she has her reasons for splitting," Bones said, and it had a finality in the tone that had Jim back away mentally from the conversation.

"So- how's the clinic doing, it wasn't even standing the last time Sam and I visited, you were just working out of your garage," Jim tired, and Bones took the conversation change easily enough, shoving Spock's salad in Jim's direction.

"It's going well enough for a town with a population of 100. But folks appreciate not having to drive two hours to the nearest hospital when they've got a stomach ache," Bones said with a shrug moving back around the counter to grab his own sandwich.

"Well, that must be-"

"Jim, what's your plan?" Bones cut him off hastily as Jim tired in vain to continue the conversation, and Jim stopped in his tracks.

"My plan to-?"

"You think I don't know about the draft letter? You know your mother calls around every month or so, she told me about your trip up north," Bones said and Jim swallowed in dismay.

"Obviously I got a little- sidetracked," Jim said sullenly running a hand through his hair restlessly.

“I just want you to be more careful is all. How important is he to you Jim? Is he worth being jailed for? Is he worth being sent off to fight like Sam-”

“ _ Don’t, Len _ . Sam made his choice and I’m making mine. I’ve been careful, I don’t give my real name to people, I don’t stay longer than a couple weeks in any place and we’ve stayed away from big cities. I’ll get him to Cali and then my plan is back on. That simple,” Jim defended harshly.

“That simple, huh?” Bones nodded, eyes downcast and mouth curved down into a frown. “Just seems a heck of a lot more complicated than you’re letting on Jim.”

“Yeah well- like you said, I care about him. I’d do the same for you,” Jim said quietly, and Bones looked at him sharp and clinical. 

“Remind me never to befriend another Kirk, you’ve all got a sense of misplaced loyalty,” Bones said gruffly, rolling his eyes. The tension in the room slowly evaporated, and Jim let out a small breath.

“You better take that in to him,” Bones nodded to the bowl of salad, and Jim looked at it in surprise having forgotten his initial reasoning for being here in the first place.

“Thanks Bones.”

**~~~**

They stayed for one night more, but even that Jim felt anxious about. He couldn't exactly excuse his worry this time about the Romulans. If just one of them had been able to track their movement others could too, not to mention Jim had - well there was more than enough reason for Jim to be worried about a second attack. 

Bones spent half of his time scolding Spock into resting, and the other half quizzing him about Vulcan biology, what little Spock could tell him. Spock only seemed mildly discomfited by it, and answered what he could, Bones at least had the decency to know what was too far, and once he'd gotten an in-depth discussion on why Vulcan's had copper blood, he seemed to have had his fill of Xenobiology.

As Jim prepared the truck to leave on their second morning at the clinic, Bones gave Spock a thorough examination. The wound on his side had healed nicely so far, and Bones made sure to explain to Jim that the stitches could be removed in the next couple of weeks, and the process of how to do it. He also made sure to hand over the number of the clinic in case they got into any more trouble along the way.

“Call me when you reach Cali Jim, it would make me feel a hell of a lot better letting you go off alone,” Bones said, gripping Jim’s shoulder tight, and Jim nodded once forcefully. Once Bones had gotten the correct response he patted Jim twice, as if making sure he was there and solid, and then he smiled.

“Alright kid, two more days of travel and should make San Francisco, don’t talk to strangers if you can help it, and for Christ's sake don’t get shot again, ya hear?” Bones said gruffly and Jim laughed half heartedly. He almost wished he could have Bones tag along for the rest of the journey, but it had been just Spock and him at the beginning and that was how he was going to finish it.

“Believe me Bones, that is advice I want to follow.”

“Take care Jim,” Bones said, his voice taking a more serious tone as he moved forward to envelop Jim into a hug. Jim knew from past experience Bones wasn’t exactly the most touchy feely of people but he took the hug in stride.  “You too Len,” Jim muttered into Bones’s shoulder, letting himself have the comfort of a friend for a few moments longer than necessary. But it had to end at some point, as Jim gave a gruff little cough stepping back from the hug with a sad smile. 

With that Jim hopped into the truck, closing the door behind him, giving a mock salute to Bones through the window who returned it with a grim smile. Spock gave a polite wave from beside him, as Jim adjusted his mirrors in preparation. 

“Away we go down the yellow brick road,” Jim muttered, ignoring the odd look Spock sent his way as he pressed his foot down onto the accelerator. 


	6. Chapter 6

The drive to San Francisco took two days, but it couldn't have gone faster in Jim's opinion. It was as if one second the sun was rising over the horizon, and the next it was dipping below the surface. Jim couldn't tell if he and Spock had spoken to one another on the drive if he'd said anything important. Nerves were racing through his system like a drug, a corrosive horrible drug, that felt like it was going to shake him apart at any second.

Spock, on the other hand, could barely contain his excitement, in his own little way. Every few moments, he would spout off some interesting fact to Jim about the city of San Francisco, or the State of California. The state bird, how the state flag originated, the year California became a state. Jim nodded along, acting every bit the attentive listener, but each word went in one ear and passed out the other. 

In approximately five hours, give or take the time it took them to find Amanda, Jim would be saying goodbye to Spock. And there was nothing he could think of to postpone that loss. 

He wasn't sure how it had happened exactly, this connection he felt to the other boy, but he had a sinking feeling it had been there the moment he laid eyes on him, stumbling from the burning wreckage of his spaceship. Winona Kirk had always warned Jim of his romantic nature, that she'd been the same way, that it did plenty good to have a soft heart, but it caused a lot of pain too.

He wished he'd understood her better when she'd told him. Maybe he wouldn't be so stuck now if he had. But the truth was, there wasn't much of anything he wouldn't give to have kept it this way, exactly as it had all played out. Meeting Spock didn't feel like an accident, it felt like it had always been planned. As if Jim had just been waiting for it to happen up till this point.

He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't was the gist of things, and Jim wasn't sure if he should feel hopeless, or grateful it had been his campsite Spock had crashed into.

"I don't know what I will say to her," Spock said quietly, staring blank-faced out onto the darkened road.

"What?" Jim startled, taking his eyes off the road for a second to glance in Spock's direction.

"I do not know what I will say to my mother. I do not know what she will want to hear."

"I don't think you'll need to say anything Spock, she's your mom and-" Jim said falteringly, but Spock just shook his head.

"I have spent many hours thinking of what her face will look like, what her voice will sound like, illogical, emotional things that I have - felt about her. But I have not until this point thought of what I would like to say to her.”

"Tell her- tell her about Vulcan. The stuff you told me ya know, the good stuff. I think she'd like to hear about I-Chaya, or the Vulcan science academy, or maybe - maybe stuff about your dad," Jim frowned down at the steering wheel, not sure if he'd just stuck his foot in his own mouth, or if what he was saying actually made sense. "I just think she 's going to want to know- everything, maybe even the not so pleasant stuff, I know my mom would."

"I- I hope you are right," Spock said quietly, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. Jim pursed his lips, drumming his fingers along the wheel. They were both unsure now at least and they could go into the unknown together.

**~~~**

Spock had explained, on several notable occasions, just how they were going to find his mother. After Jim had shared his concerns on the enormity of a city like San Francisco and the very low chance they'd be able to find one woman in the whole mess, Spock had laid out his plans. Before he had left Vulcan, while he was doing his initial research of Earth, Spock had uncovered files dictating Sarek’s original stay on Earth. There were lots of files on Amanda Grayson.

"She works at a University, she's a professor on particle physics. Even my father mentioned how incredibly intelligent she was," Spock would say, tracing invisible patterns into the fabric of his jeans, as Jim would nod along keeping his eyes on the road.

So they had the university to check, and when Jim mentioned the possibility of her having left the job, Spock had a contingency plan for exactly that. 

"There will be files on her, contact information for other professors or students who would like to get into contact with her if she has left the school, we'll be able to find her.” 

"And if she's not in California anymore?" Jim had asked that first time, feeling a small spark of hope that maybe, maybe he had a little more time left than he'd thought.

"Then I head off on my own, Jim. San Francisco was our agreement, I could not ask more of you," Spock had said matter of factly, so easily that it shut Jim right up. Of course- their agreement. 

So there it was, all laid out neatly, most everything was considered for. But one thing was for sure when they reached California, Jim and Spock would part ways, and there was nothing Jim could do to stop it. 

And then they reached the city, Jim feeling an actual ache as his beat-up old truck crossed the dazzling Golden Gate Bridge. Spock marveled silently at the shimmering red support beams and the lines of traffic that sped past them. As far as their first big city, San Francisco was no letdown. As they drove further in, there was more and more to look at, to gaze and wonder at. Even Jim in his morose state could admit to the beauty of the rising skyline. It of course occurred to him that besides a special birthday trip in his youth, Chicago was the only major city he'd ever visited.

As they drove through the thickening traffic of the early morning, Spock would quietly point out their directions, analytically checking the map every few seconds trying to devise their quickest route. San Francisco State University was on the southwest side of the city, and it took them nearly an hour after crossing the bridge to make it there. By the time Jim caught sight of a rolling green campus, it was high noon, and the sun was heating the truck up to an uncomfortable degree. Jim could feel sweat dripping down his back as he followed several signs to a free guest parking garage.

"We can check the front office first, that's our best bet if your mom is still working at the university," Jim said as he pulled into the first available spot, as he pushed back a strand of heat damp hair from his forehead. Beside him, Spock nodded stiltedly, adjusting his - or more precisely one of Jim's, more presentable looking button-up shirts. Light blue and wrinkling in the afternoon sun, Jim wasn't sure there was any way to make it look pressed at this point.

Finding the main office was easy enough, there were enough signs for new students and guest admissions to make mobility around campus easy. He followed Spock into the air conditioned building with a sigh of relief as they got away from the afternoon sun.

It was a high ceilinged building with two sets of staircases leading up into the second floor of the building, and at the far end of the room sat a large desk behind which several women were answering calls. Jim took the initiative to approach them first, dragging a stiff-looking Spock along with him.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, I was wondering if you could direct us to Professor Amanda Grayson's office's?" 

"Oh, of course let me just-" she scrambled for a moment with several open files, pulling forth what looked like a directory and she scanned it quickly before saying "She's in the science buildings, just across the quad, the office number is B 210. You got that?" 

"Yes, thank you for the help, have a nice day," Jim smiled brightly back and grabbed Spock's arm again.

"We've got to make this fast, neither of us has student or guest passes, if security catches us we'll really be in the dog house," Jim, muttered as the sped across the green and shaded campus quad space. Several students were taking advantage of the nice weather, lounging with books open, chatting with friends over notecards. 

The science building was a bit of a maze, but once they figured the 100's and 200's were separated by floors it became easier to search. Every moment Jim was sure they were going to be stopped, asked what they thought they're doing here, and promptly escorted off-campus. But apparently they both looked enough like regular San Francisco university students, and by the time they made it to B 210, no one had even so much as glanced their way.

The office was locked tight, and through the thick glass window, no light was showing through. 

"Wait, Spock, her office hours are right here- she'll be back on Monday morning," Jim pointed to a sign posted to the side of her office door, and they both moved to check it thoroughly.

"Her class hours are also posted, we could check out one of her lectures," Jim said jokingly, but the way Spock was gazing at the sheet of paper in fascination, Jim wasn't so sure Spock had taken it that way.

Spock didn't seem too dispirited as he exited the building, shoulders back, and spine straight, he seemed determined, more, now than ever. Jim could feel his own spirits plummeting.

As they stopped at the crosswalk a sudden thought struck Jim. If this was really their last day together, there was no way Jim was going to have them spend it in some cheap motel waiting for their chance to meet Amanda Greyson.

“Spock-” Jim stopped not exactly sure how to phrase his next request, and Spock turned to him in anticipation, waiting patiently for Jim to unstick his foot from his mouth.

"I don't- why don’t we- why don’t we spend the day exploring the city? We know Amanda'll be back there tomorrow, heck, she'll be there next week. We have time is- is all I'm saying," Jim stuttered out, turning his head away to look at the colorfully decorated shop windows. Spock was quite next to him, too quiet for Jim's comfort, but there wasn't anything left he could think to say to nullify the situation.

"Maybe-" Spock stopped, and Jim turned to him quickly, heart thudding with hope. "Maybe I should become better acquainted with the city, for when I am living here with her.” 

Jim's face broke out in a grin almost immediately, there would have been no way to stop the joy running its way through his system.

"Alright well, gosh there's so much we could do. There's the Golden Gate Bridge, and Alcatraz, the redwood forests, Chinatown, and Little Italy, we could start wherever.”

"There is a smaller Italy?” Spock asked, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side.

"Yes, and we can start there if you want, I've never been myself, but I've got these travel brochures back home. We can split a cannoli."

Jim grabbed up Spock's hand, about to head back to the truck when out of the corner of his eye, a shouting match caught his attention. Jim stopped involuntarily, making Spock come to a halt as well. Across the street, even though there were lanes of busy traffic, Jim could hear a fight breaking out between the biggest cop he'd ever seen and a wiry teenage boy. If Jim had any sense he would have turned away, taken Spock to Little Italy, and split their cannoli. But Spock was proof enough that what little sense Jim had, had been left at the Canadian border.

"Come on, I have to take care of something first," Jim said under his breath, letting go of Spock's hand, and adjusting his hair and jacket, before motioning for them to race across the road. 

The argument was even more heated by the time they made their way across the street, the cop had backed the kid up against a parked car, holding aloft a can of spray paint like some kind of weapon. 

"You kids think you're all such God damned heroes, but spray painting public property just makes you look like a bunch of dead weights," the cop snapped. The boy didn't seem too phased by the comment, eyes steely and unmoving.

"Yeah, I guess I'm not living up to your standard of hero huh- not dying in some stupid fucking war because you people hate communism," the kid barked back, a bold statement Jim thought, for someone who looked like he was about to have the shit beaten out of him.

“You stupid little Ch-"

"Whoa hey, officer Dinkley!" Jim yelled, catching the officer off guard long enough for the boy to snatch up his can of spray paint and dash under the guy's arm.

"Come back here you little shit," the officer roared at the racing form of the boy before he turned back to Jim and Spock. Jim only hesitated for a moment before he grabbed Spock's hand and took off in the other direction. The cop shrieked behind them to stop, not that it did any good, Jim couldn't stop even if he wanted to, as the inclined road made them both pick up speed. 

It was when he heard the sound of screeching tires that Jim really started to panic, and as they cut a corner they noticed the form of a police cruiser following them at a jarring speed.

"Shit, shit, shit," Jim muttered under his breath. There was nowhere that Jim could see to hide, no alleyway they wouldn’t be caught heading down. 

"Hey, this way!" Jim nearly stopped in his tracks as a voice two buildings away shouted, Spock, slammed into his back making them both stumble, and that was when Jim caught sight of the dark haired boy from before. His head and one arm were sticking out from a tight alleyway, and he was motioning for them to pick up speed. Jim didn't even think before he took off this time. 

The police siren grew louder behind them, piercing the air and making Jim’s pulse spike horribly. But just as the cop's cruiser spun around the corner, Jim and Spock were safely tucked behind an overflowing dumpster, heaving for breath as their new friend kept watch. The cop car sped past their hiding spot, and Jim could barely believe they'd made it. 

As Jim collected his breath, he turned to Spock to see if he was alright. He was clutching at his side with a slightly discomforted look, sweat beading at his temple, and Jim suddenly, stupidly remembered his stitches.

"Sp- I mean, _Leonard_ , you okay?" Jim gasped out, and Spock glanced at the other boy still making sure the coast was clear, before nodding his head once, pointedly.

"Man, that was a close call. That asshole has been after me for weeks," the other boy said, turning to look at both Spock and Jim head on for the first time.

"Thanks for the save," Jim said and the other boy waved him off quickly.

"Least I could do- I woulda been halfway to lock up if you hadn't shown up. Hikaru Sulu by the way," the other boy said with a grin holding out his hand to shake. Jim took it and stood, shaking it once firmly.

"Names Jim, this is Leonard." 

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you both. " Hikaru said, stepping out from behind the dumpster to get a better look out at the street.

"Do you think we're okay to head back to our car now?" Jim asked, as he helped Spock to his feet, who looked a little better after a moment of catching his breath. 

"He shouldn't be back around for another twenty minutes, but I'll walk you back," Hikaru said with a shrug, and Jim didn’t fight him on it. They walked together, ready at any moment to make a run for it. Jim couldn’t help but jump at every car that passed them on the street, and Hikaru was looking at him with increased amusement.

“This your first time being on the wrong side of the law?”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Jim muttered, and Hikaru looked at him curiously but dropped the subject nonetheless.

They reached the university's parking garage quickly enough, and Jim felt himself relax as he entered the shaded concrete structure. Except, as they made their way closer to Jim’s parking spot he noticed something was off.

"This is where we parked, I don't know how it-" the truck was gone. An empty space was all that was left and Spock moved to his side to stare in shock. Jim wasn’t a forgetful person and neither was Spock. This was their spot, and the truck was gone.

"It says it's only good for an hour," Hikrua said with a grimace, pointing up at a sign hanging from the low ceiling of the parking garage. Jim felt his face go red in embarrassment. Of all the times to miss something like that. 

"So you mean it's been-"

"Towed? yeah, they're pretty strict around here about that, especially with the university," Hikaru said with a grimace. 

" _Shit_ ," Jim cursed, kicking at the concrete column in anger. All it got him was a sore foot and a bruised ego, and Hikaru watched on in pity.

"You guys have any place to go tonight?" Hikaru asked suddenly.

"Not until tomorrow, no," Jim said with a shrug, and Hikaru nodded for a moment.

"Well if you're okay with camping, I think I have a place in mind."

Which is how Jim and Spock found themselves being led through the back streets of San Francisco to an unknown location. Every time Jim tried to discern their destination, Hikaru would shush him, and say it was only a half an hour walk from where they were. So Jim hung back with Spock, making sure every few minutes that his stitches hadn’t been busted, and Spock became increasingly more irritated by the fact.

They finally left the city, traveling down through more suburban type buildings and houses, nearer to the beach, and Jim shivered as the cold bay air stung his cheeks. Spock looked even worse off next to him, shivering wildly at each brush of wind. Finally, the ground began to even out as they reached the beachfront, and Hikaru turned to them with a grin.

"Now this might not be the kind of digs you guys are used to, but we've got plenty of amenities to go around. You just have to get used to sharing.”

"What do you mean by- '' and then Jim stopped as they reached a grove of Cypress trees. Along the beach and through the forest Jim caught sight of a dozen or so teenagers milling around, some of them may have been a little older, but none were much younger than eighteen. 

"What is this?" Spock asked as Hikaru moved aside a branch as they entered the beachside wood.

"This is home base for all of us raging against the machine," Hikaru stated glibly, and then as Jim and Spock passed more and more kids among tents and small campfires, Sulu continued by saying that this was where many student protesters were hiding out these days.

"At first this was just where we came to meet up, it is public property after all, but then we started getting kids in from the midwest, busloads full of em who wanted to help the cause, so we set this up. As long as we keep the noise down, the locals don't bother calling the police."

"So, all of you are protesting Vietnam?" Jim asked in awe, as Sulu led them out into an open clearing of sandy dunes and tall grass. Several kids were out playing around with a beat-up soccer ball, and Hikaru waved to them as he passed.

"Yeah, I mean it's kids our age being sent over, our brothers and friends, it's kind of our job to help bring them back home. Not to mention the wars totally bunk anyway," Hikaru said with a grimace and Jim nodded along fervently.

"Where are you guys from anyway?" Hikaru asked him, stopping as he reached the end of the clearing.

"Iowa," Jim said quickly and Hikaru nodded thoughtfully.

"Well I hope you guys will feel comfortable enough to stay with us, the more the merrier is what I say, and you can't be too bad with how you handled the cop back there," Hikaru said with a grin. And just as Jim was about to thank him again for his help, and the place to stay, Hikaru sat up, eyes wide.

"Nyota, hey Nyota over here!" The other boy waved his arm at a young black woman who'd just run in across the clearing, whirled around to see Hikaru waving and she quickly made her way over.

"Nyota meet Jim and Leonard. These two helped me out of a tight spot with that cop from Wednesday's sit-in," Hikaru said with a flourish, and Nyota looked at them both appraisingly.

"How long are you guys staying for?" She asked kindly, and Jim jumped in easily.

"Should only be for the night, we really do appreciate the help though."

"Listen Nyota, M’benga asked for my help to hand out flyers on campus later this afternoon and I said I would, you wouldn't mind showing them through the rest of camp would you?" Hikaru asked pleadingly, and Nyota just rolled her eyes.

"Shouldn't be too much trouble, come on you two, I think I've got a nice campsite you could settle down in for the night," Nyoyta said smoothly, and Hikaru waved them off cheerily as Jim and Spock followed her through the rest of camp.

The encampment was truly _filled_ with people, milling about in partial states of undress, laughing, shouting and singing like no party that Jim had ever seen in Riverside. Spock moved a step closer consciously pulling the sides of beanie down. Jim wasn't sure how to comfort him, not really, so he tugged slightly at the cuff of Spock's sleeve. Just as a reminder that he was there, and he wasn't going anywhere.

"Sorry things are so crazy right now. We just got a whole busload of kids from Indiana joining us, so there's a bit of celebration going on," Nyota laughed, dodging the figure of a racing, giggling girl. 

"It's no problem really. We're just glad we'll have somewhere to stay tonight," Jim said nervously watching the curious stares of several passersby.

"It's good that Hikaru found you, two, we have ways of staying hidden when we want to," Nyota grinned, walking them farther away from the main crowd, past a glen of half-dead trees. "Now, we don't have much room right now, and sorry, no privacy, but it's lots of fun, we have campfires when it gets dark enough, and sing-alongs when we're bored. We're like a big happy family when you really get down to it."

"Yeah, no I'm sure," Jim tried smiling, but it took effort. Of course, he'd heard stories about the Vietnam protestors, but really he'd never thought of them as so young. They were kids, his age, out here in the forest, trying to find ways to stop death and destruction an ocean away. Here Nyota was, smiling and talking about campfire sing-alongs like some kind of camping trip when she'd done more for the cause then Jim had ever felt brave enough to talk about.

"We have a couple of extra blankets for padding, no sleeping bags for people who didn't bring them, and really the ground isn't that hard, especially since it’s mostly sand and clay," Nyota said stopping in the least densely packed area of the encampment, where a small campfire had been built previously. A couple of girls were already situated around it, not paying much mind to them until they stopped.

"Leila, Janet, this is James and Leonard, they helped Hikaru out in a tight situation so we're giving them a place to stay for the night," Nyota said, waving to the two girls, who were now eyeing both Jim and Spock with more interest.

One girl, who had her hair up in an intricate bundle of braids nodded shyly at them both, but the other bolder of the two stood to meet them. Jim found something entirely unnerving in her countenance, or maybe it was just the way her eyes seemed to be glued to Spock, barely paying him any mind. She was a tiny thing, with eyes such a light blue Jim could almost call them lilac.

"I'm Leila." 

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Spock said, holding out his hand to shake, and Jim suddenly felt the odd urge to smack it away.

"I'm going to go get you guys some of those extra blankets, Janet, Leila I'm sure these two have had a long day and could use some time to rest," Nyota said with a knowing look in Jim's direction. Leila took her hand back from Spock with a disappointed pout but scurried after Janet and Nyota as they left the clearing.

"Well, at least this isn't too different than what we're used to," Jim said with a sigh, taking a seat on the ground. The sand was a softer place to rest than most but Jim was going to miss the mattress in his truck tonight.

"We are lucky to have warranted Mr. Sulu's trust," Spock said genially, sitting down beside Jim gracefully, and Jim nodded his head softly in agreement. 

"Lucky, yeah. You know without the truck we’ll have to wake up early tomorrow if we want to catch your mom's class," Jim said warily, running a hand through his hair tiredly. Spock hummed quietly, drawing a finger through the sand at his side.

"You nervous?" Jim asked as Spock continued his silence, and Spock stopped his wandering hand.

"Vulcans do not get nervous," He said quietly, and Jim made a knowing face.

"Yeah, but are you?"

Spock paused, frowning ever so slightly. "The chance of my mother rejecting me is at 15.752%, and yet I can not help but feel-"

"Like there's a 100% chance she will," Jim finished, probably less precisely than Spock would have put it, but he received a nod of agreement anyway.

"It is illogical."

"Yeah well, sorry about that, human anxieties are never as useful as they should be," Jim said with a grim smile. "But that's all they are Spock. If she's a mother worth having she won't think twice before accepting you."

Spock was silent a moment, going back to his sand tracing, and Jim let him, letting his eyes fall closed, as the sun found its way between the branches of the trees above them.

"Thank you, Jim, for all that you have done for me."

"You don't need to thank me, Spock, you really don't." 

**~~~**

Hours later, as the sun was setting Jim awakened from a nap to the sound of running feet. Spock was still near reading a book borrowed from another young woman they’d met named Christine. Through the dim light, Jim caught sight of several other campers making their way through the forest to the beach, giggling and jostling each other. From the crowd that was passing through stumbled Hikaru, who looked tired but in good spirits. As soon as he caught sight of Jim and Spock in their little clearing he began pushing his way through the crowd with more vigor.

"Jim, it's good to see Nyota got you settled in nicely, hope it's not too low scale for ya."

Jim shook his head, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "No, no, it's just fine - what's going on down at the beach?"

"Oh, that- Nyota likes to have a little sing-along every other night, to keep morale up. It works like a charm, but she's got the voice of an angel. You two should think of joining," Hikaru said with a grin as he began making his way to the beach himself. Jim turned to Spock who had lowered his book during the course of their conversation and he looked to Jim politely interested.

"I don't see why we couldn't join,” Jim said with a shrug.

Which is how they found themselves on different sides of a large ring of teens, watching in awe of Nyota as she played a haunting cover of _Sound of Silence_. Once she finished the crowd clapped and cheered, egging her on for another song. 

As the sun set she played several more, sometimes asking for people to sing along, which the kids readily enjoyed. Finally though, after a rather boisterous rendition of _Just One Look_ , Nyota said she needed a break.

“If anyone else can play, the offer is open,” Nyota said with a tired smile, holding out her guitar. The crowd mumbled for a moment, but no one seemed too keen on trying themselves.

“I may have something to play.”

Jim gaped at Spock as Nyota grinned and handed over her instrument. Spock took the guitar carefully in hand and laid it gently on his knee as he adjusted his hands on the strings. The rest of their small crowd sat with bated breath, and Jim could barely think of blinking, not wanting to miss a moment of what was about to come. Spock sat silently for a moment, before taking a deep breath and playing the first notes. 

The melody that came forth from the guitar, was unlike anything Jim had heard before. Even with the familiar instrument, and the familiar keys, the way Spock played was unreal. The song was like spoken word, like a language. It was like a story was being told through each note.

The campsite seemed to fade away as the music continued, Spock's hands fluttering over the strings with precision. It was almost impossible to tear away from. 

It seemed just as soon as it had begun, Spock's hands were stilling and silence was filling the air. The music was still in their heads though, echoing around in their thoughts. Christine was the first to start clapping and then the rest of the group was whooping and hollering, and Spock was handing back Nyota's guitar with the downcast eyes of modest embarrassment. Jim could only sit, and stare.

"That was amazing Leonard, where'd you learn to play like that?" Leila asked, leaning into Spock's space with a sappy looking grin across her face. Spock shrugged half heartedly, sending an alarmed look in Jim's direction.

"It was like magic man, I've never heard that song before," Hikaru said, still looking kind of dazed by the experience. Jim couldn't agree more.

"Do you have another you could play for us?" Nyota asked, holding out her guitar again for Spock to take. He shook his head and pushed it back towards her politely.

"I am afraid I only know that one." 

The rest of the group groaned in a playful manner but continued to chatter on about the mystique of it, how delightful it had been to hear. Leila was the most vocal out of all of them.

"You could have a record made of that you know, it would be a total hit," she crooned, wrapping one of her arms through Spock's, oblivious to the tense hold of his shoulders, or the thin line his mouth had become. Jim was ready to feel sorry for him now.

"Nyota why don't you play _Where Did Our Love Go_? You sang it beautifully," Jim said and the rest of the group took it, hook line and sinker. They each chimed in with their own requests, and Nyota giggling began playing Jim’s request, her voice a soothing balm to the curiosity over Spock. Leila however stayed stuck, her arm still tight around his.

Jim stood quietly from his spot, making sure not to disrupt anyone else, and then tapped at Spock's shoulder.

"I'm going to have to steal Leonard away, Leila, my apologies," Jim said, sending her his most charming smile when she gave an affronted _humf_ as Spock moved to get up.

"You can't stay for a bit more?" She pleaded down-heartedly, letting her mouth droop into a pretty pout. Jim had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"We have an early morning tomorrow Ms. Kalomi, but we've had a wonderful evening," Spock said amiably, and somehow this was good enough for Leila, who sat back with a disappointed _hmm_ , but said no more on the matter of sticking around. Jim nodded his head in the direction of the woods, and they made their way off the exposed beachfront together.

"Looks like your fancy playing got you a fan club," Jim joked casually, as they moved through the darkened forest slowly. Jim couldn't see Spock's face clearly, but he got the broad enough view of displeasure in his features.

"Ms. Kalomi is nice Jim, your distaste for her is unclear to me."

"She just seems kind of clingy is all," Jim said, kicking at the sand clumping under his feet. Spock gave a displeased _hum_ , and then picked up his pace.

"Hey wait Spock- I didn't- she's fine, I just think she's kind of airheaded."

"Is there any other reason you find her displeasing Jim?" Spock asked, turning suddenly just inches from Jim's face. Jim stopped breathing for a moment, feeling his heart skitter at the closeness.

"What other reason would I have?" Jim asked quietly, and suddenly Spock was rolling his eyes, really _rolling his eyes_ as if Jim had just said the dumbest thing.

"James Tiberius Kirk, you are a smart human, but you are the most obtuse person I've ever encountered," and then without much warning, he grabbed Jim's hand in his and then leaned forward to press their lips together. 

And at that moment Jim got it. All of the times he had berated himself for wishful thinking, Spock had been right along with him, feeling the same things, just quieter. Spock had wanted to kiss him that night dancing, and at Bones’s clinic when they'd made peace, he'd wanted to kiss Jim just as much as Jim wanted to kiss him.

When Spock finally pulled away Jim stood speechless. Spock looked at him closely, not letting go of his hand, but letting the soft wanting float between them. Jim was such an idiot.

"I would not say it out loud, but, yes," Spock said quietly, and Jim's eyes widened in surprise.

"How was I supposed to know. Not everyone is a mind reader Spock," Jim said tartly, but he didn't let go either.

"I was under the impression I was being- _obvious_ ," Spock said flatly, and Jim let out a surprised little snort. But he quickly sobered.

"Maybe I- maybe I did know Spock, but you have to know it's different for me, this is different here. There are different standards on Earth and I had to be careful," Jim breathed out, clutching Spock's hand a little tighter, and Spock brought his right hand up to cradle Jim's cheek.

"We have hidden more from people before," Spock said quietly, and Jim nodded his head slowly. Spock let him take a moment for himself, to breathe and be held, and then Jim raised his eyes up to meet Spock’s gaze again.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to try that kiss again," Jim murmured, and Spock smiled.

“ _I would be amenable to that,_ ” and slowly Spock brought their lips together again.

This time Jim was able to enjoy it for what it was. Spock’s lips, while also cold to the touch, were soft and malleable. It was like sparks were going off inside Jim’s head as he pressed further into the touch, and he couldn’t help the smile curving onto his lips.

**~~~**

Later that night as they were both drifting away to sleep Jim was startled awake by Spock shifting around next to him. Finally, from the darkness came a whispered “ _Jim?_ ”

“Yeah?” Jim’s voice murmured, rough with sleep, as he felt Spock shift closer to him on the blanket.

“If everything goes as planned tomorrow, I would hope that you would stay in California a few days more than you had planned. I would like my mother to know you,” Spock whispered feathery and soft, as his hand reached for Jim’s between them.

“Of course, Spock. Of course, I’ll stay,” Jim said vehemently, rolling over all the way so he could wrap both his hands around Spock’s outstretched palm. As their eyes locked, Jim felt certain there was no way he could bring himself to leave now, not when he had whole galaxies to map in Spock’s eyes.

“ _Of course I’ll stay_.”


	7. Chapter 7

Jim woke up early before the sun had even reached their shady little clearing. Spock was still asleep, curled into Jim’s chest, letting out whispery little snores that made Jim’s heart flutter unexpectedly. He brushed aside a misplaced strand of hair from Spock’s eyes then placed a soft kiss onto his forehead. With that done, and a feeling of warmth tucked away in his chest, Jim went in search of Hikaru.

He had to ask around, approaching other sleepy looking campers to where he could be found, but finally, he was pointed in the right direction. 

“Hey, Jim, you an early bird too?” Hikaru asked, smiling warmly into his tin coffee mug. Jim shook his head with a smile, and then caught the empty cup Hikaru tossed his way.

“More and more these days, I was just wondering if you knew which impound lot my truck got towed to,” Jim said, holding out his cup for Hikaru to pour coffee. 

"Don't worry, I got a couple of friends in the parks department I called up already who should be able to get your car out of the impound lot. Just do what you have to do today and I'll have you back in one piece by tonight," Hikaru said with a grin, and it immediately made Jim feel at ease.

"I can't thank you enough for helping us out Hikaru, you're a real lifesaver you know that?" 

"Listen, you helped me out of a tough spot yesterday, I'm just repaying you what you're due,” Hikaru shrugged deftly, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "You want a light?"

"No, thanks, I hack up a lung anytime one of those gets near me. Listen, Len and I are going to hear from the university this afternoon to meet up with his mom, anything we should look out for?" Jim asked, watching as Hikaru took a lighter from his pocket and lit up. Hikaru raised his shoulder once in a shrug.

"Just stay clear of the main building, I know there'll be a couple of student groups out today that might clash with the local fuzz, but you look clean enough I'm sure you'd be fine," 

"Alright, thanks for the tip, listen if the impound lot needs money I'll pay you back whatever-"

"Ah get out of here Kirk, I'll have your truck when you get back, wish Len a happy mother reunion from me," Hikaru chirped through his cigarette, and Jim laughed sardonically. He left Hikaru to his smoke, only coughing slightly at the smoke, and headed back to his and Spock’s camp.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Jim said with a wave and smile, placing his empty cup down.

When he’d waded through the slowly awakening camp, Jim spotted Spock stretching languidly early morning sun making his hair shine and almost blue-black.

"Morning sunshine, you ready to go?" Jim asked, approaching with an easy smile, and Spock looked up almost startled.

“Is it already 10:00?” Spock asked through a yawn, and Jim shook his head, sitting back down on to the dew damp blanket.

“No, it’s only five minutes to eight, but without the truck for the day we’ll have to head out early if we want to catch Amanda at work,” Jim said with a shrug, trying to keep himself from staring at the slight curl of Spock’s bed head, and then realized he didn’t need to stop himself from staring anymore. Spock looked back at him quizzically as a large grin overtook Jim’s face.

“That is logical, if not- annoying,” Spock replied, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes. Jim laughed and then patted him on the back as he stood.

Spock took his time folding their blanket and making absolutely sure the ashes of their campfire were cold enough to leave, and by the time they walked out into the main clearing, large crowds of people had started coalescing over campfires cooking up their breakfast. From across the clearing, Nyota waved cheerily, her arms wrapped lovingly around her guitar, while Christine eyed a cast-iron pan of bacon sleepily. Jim and Spock headed their way

“Morning Jim, Leonard. Hey Len, I was wondering if you could show me the chords to that song you played last night, I can’t seem to get the hang of it yet,” Nyota asked as he and Spock passed.

Next to Nyota, Christine nodded her head in assent. “It was totally fab Leonard, completely out of this world.”

Before Spock could reply and slow them down anymore Jim cut in.

“Sorry Nyota, we’ve got a big day ahead of us, we’ve got to head out pretty early.”

"Well then, you'll have to show me the rest when you get back Len, I haven't had something quite so challenging in a while," Nyota said enthusiastically bumping her shoulder into Christine’s in a friendly manner. 

"We might be out for the day, but I'll be back tonight for sure," Jim said with a wave, Spock following suit. The two girls smiled kindly, then went back to playing with Nyota's guitar.

**~~~**

Jim may have overestimated their travel time, and they reached Amanda Grayson’s lecture hall a good thirty minutes before the class’s start. Even so, the classroom was filled to the brim with students. It was nothing like the lecture halls that Jim had toured at Notre Dame, but somehow it still made him long for the time he had lost to a stupid slip of paper. Spock dragged him almost impatiently to the back of the classroom, eyes straying back every few seconds to the front of the room, watching the door like a hawk. The students were chattering away, books stacked high, and pencils at the ready; it was almost funny to think that today was as normal as any other for them. That they got to be blissfully unaware of the story behind their physics professional her sordid love affair with an alien. At this though, Jim let out a small burst of laughter, that caused a few eyes to turn their way. Jim waved at them embarrassed but still amused. Spock didn't pay any attention, as he pushed into the back row of seats. 

"Jeez Spock, I'm going, I'm going," Jim hissed, wincing as his knee hit the table. Spock turned to look at him in surprise, an apology on his lips when the entrance at the front of the room opened. The rest of the class went silent immediately, as a woman in her late forties entered the room, looking as regal and severe as a queen. If Jim hadn't known anything about Spock's history with her, he'd have known then she was his mother. They didn't show many similarities in appearance, although their noses were fairly close, it was the way she walked, held her shoulders back and head high, not like she felt she was better than everyone, but like she knew it beyond a fact.

She placed a stack of books down on her desk, still not addressing the class in any way, she adjusted several pens and pencils that weren't to her liking, dusted off her blouse of invisible fluff, and then smiled. up at her rows of students.

"Alright class, turn your books to the fifth chapter, we're going to be talking theoreticals today."

**~~~**

As the class ended, and the students shuffled out, Jim felt himself come back into his body like some kind of dream. Jim had never heard a teacher like Amanda Grayson before, not once in his nineteen years of life had he felt a real draw to learn everything she had to teach him.

"I understand why my father chose her to bond with," Spock spoke up beside him, hands clasped tightly in his lap

"Yeah, she's a genius," Jim said almost breathless.

"She does not have office hours after this, we will have to catch her before she leaves," Spock said suddenly, shaking his head as if to remove whatever haze the lecture had put over both of them.

"Yeah, yep right, come on, we can go this way to avoid the crowds," Jim said nodding his head vigorously, as they watched Amanda wave a couple of students goodbye as she cleared her belongings from her desk. She was out the door quickly, and Jim took the steps down two at a time with Spock close at his heels.

Jim grabbed Spock’s hand and together they cut through the crowd of students like fish through water. There was some accompanied grumbling, but no one stopped them from chasing after Amanda. Jim was just able to catch sight of her lavender button-up, winding around a corner, and Jim pulled a little harder on Spock’s hand to pick up their speed. The crowd was finally diminishing heading out of the building or off to other classes within the science wing.

It was when Jim saw Amanda about to take a staff elevator that he felt the need to call out to her.

“Ms. Grayson!”

Amanda stopped only for a moment her finger pressing the elevators down button as Jim called out.

“I’m sorry I’m in a rush today boys, my office hours are Wednesday through Friday, from 8 to 11,” she called out just as the doors opened in front of her.

“Wait, Ms. Grayson, we’re not-”

The doors to the elevator we're closing and it was a last-ditch effort to catch her. Jim let go of Spock's hand and sprinted for the door, jamming his hand between the closing doors. Amanda looked at Jim startled, gripping her leather briefcase to her chest in fear.

"I'm sorry Ms. Grayson, but we're not students of yours," Jim said a little out of breath as the doors reopened and Spock caught up to him. Amanda looked between the two of them warily and did not lower her defensive stance.

"Uh, Spock a little help?" Jim muttered as Spock stood frozen next to him. Suddenly Amanda's eyes were widening, glittering with some unknown awe. 

"Did you- did you just say Spock?" she asked quietly, lowering her briefcase slightly, her eyes not moving from Spock's face. Jim nodded, but it wouldn't have mattered either way as Amanda ignored him in favor of exiting the elevator completely to meet Spock up close.

"You are who I think you are?" Amanda whispered, her hand coming up nervously to touch the edge of Spock's grey knitted cap. His eyes darted to her hand for a moment before he spoke.

"I am Spock, son of Sarek of the house S’chn T’gai- " Spock said and before he could get the rest out Amanda's arms were encircling him and Jim let the elevator doors close behind him as Amanda Grayson met her son for the first time in 17 years.

**~~~**

Before any serious question could begin Amanda told them she was taking the rest of the day off, she refused to let them wait for her to complete meetings for the rest of the afternoon. Within twenty minutes they were following Amanda through the streets of San Francisco as she talked rather randomly about the buildings around them. She seemed nervous, which Jim could not blame her for, she didn't seem to know what to do with herself, besides the many timid looks in Spock's direction. She had so much trouble keeping her eyes off of him that Jim had to make sure she didn't step out into traffic several times.

"There's this perfect little diner just a block more away. I used to bring you, father, here, he was always so curious about human culture, he was a real people watcher," Amanda said, waving her arm out in the direction of the diner, and Spock's eyes lit up at the mention of his father.

"My father allowed himself to examine human culture unguarded?" Spock asked, picking up his pace to match Amanda's long and excited stride. Jim hung back, not wanting to interrupt the flow of this new tentative conversation.

"Oh yes, When we first met- well obviously it was an accident, I was out stargazing and when I caught sight of his ship in my telescope, and I just had to go check it out. He and his friends sure were surprised to find me sneaking through their camp a night later, they thought they'd been so inconspicuous. They’d scrambled radar from picking them up but I was an unplanned scenario,” Amanda said a soft and reminiscent looking smile flitting across her face.

"How did you manage to let them work with you?" Jim asked, an unknown curiosity flooding his system as Amanda told her story. Amanda looked back at him, slyly her smile growing wider.

"Oh, that was all Sarek, his associates wanted nothing to do with me, but Sarken convinced them I'd be a valuable resource on Earth, their very own guide to the more- human aspect," before Jim could ask how she'd convinced Sarke so quickly Amanda was stopping in front of a brightly colored door, with a flashing neon sign.

"We're here, go in, go in you two must be famished- all the way from Minnesota, that's quite the journey," Amanda said jovially, pushing them through the doors to the diner ahead of her. 

"We have eaten since then-" Jim muttered, but Amanda either didn't hear him or was good-humored enough to mention it as she sat down at a corner in the back of the restaurant. The checkered tiles were primary pink and blue, and the vinyl seating was a soft yellow. The whole diner was so incredibly bright, Jim couldn't imagine Spock's father of all people willingly choosing this restaurant for people watching.

"What is it that you normally order?' Spock asked looking down to the plastic covered menus on their table already, all of which looked incredibly good to Jim. He picked up his menu quickly forgetting momentarily his annoyance with Amanda's comment.

"They've got a delightful selection salad here Spock, just here at the bottom of the menu. I know Sarek wouldn't go near meat," she pointed a shiny lacquered fingernail down on a listing of salad options that Spock stared at in surprise.

“It is rare we have such a selection.”

“Well the Caesar salad is fantastic, they have a garden on the roof, all the vegetables are fresh,” Amanda added as a waiter made his way over to their table finally.

“Are you ready to order?” 

“Oh yes please, we’ll have two caesar salads and-” Amanda turned to Jim expectantly and he mumbled out his order. 

“Anything else?” the waiter asked, his bored tone setting Jim even more on edge. Amanda glanced down at the menu once more until her eyes fell upon the desserts. 

“Three chocolate milkshakes please-“

“No!” Jim startled, voice too loud, as the waiter looked to him with alarm. Amanda froze until her eyes skittered to look at Spock before understanding hit and her mouth formed an O.

“Make that two milkshakes and a water. Please,” she said quickly, and the waiter took the order while avoiding looking at Jim again, taking off for the kitchens as soon as it was on paper.

“Sorry, we’ve just- had some bad experiences with chocolate,” Jim said lowly, and Amanda nodded her head fast.

“Of course my mistake, it’s been years since I’ve- well Spock you should have seen your father the first time he had a Hershey’s Kiss,” Amanda said fondly, letting her eyes trace Spock’s face softly.

"So Ms. Grayson, what have you been up to since Vulcans left?" Jim asked suddenly, hating the heated flush of his face, the fact he was actually jealous of Amanda Grayson's attentions towards Spock. She looked back at him carefully and then smiled.

"I continued living my life, I was studying to become a teacher, it's always been a great love of mine. I can't say I gave up on Vulcan completely though, I tried to contact your father after- after he left with you Spock, but either he didn't want to hear from me or my signal- never reached him," Amanda said, her voice breaking slightly at the end. Her hand reached for Spock's as soon as her palm landed on his Spock jerked it away in surprise and Amanda stared at him for a moment, shocked.

"I'm sorry- I forgot about- I'm sorry," she stuttered out and Ji looked between the two in confusion.

"Hands are sensitive to Vulcan's Jim, it was stupid of me to try that," Amanda said wearily, sitting back in her seat as their waiter from before hurried back with the two salads and Jim's order of fries and a chicken sandwich.

They ate quietly after that. Amanda seemed to have switched her momentum, too scared to mess up again and cause such a reaction in her son again. Jim tried to keep his eyes on his meal, ignoring the urge to grab Spock's hand for himself, just to see what was going on inside the Vulcan's head. His face wasn't showing much as he finished off his salad quickly.

"So where are you boys staying? Nowhere too expensive I hope," Amanda tried again as she set down her fork. Jim glanced to Spock who was rolling a ripe looking cherry tomato around his bowl with his fork.

"With some friends near the beachfront," Jim finally said as Spock continued in silence. Amanda nodded awkwardly and then folded her hands in front of her.

"Well- my house isn’t big but- I do have lots to show you, Spock. Things your father left behind, and things I've kept in the hopes that you would someday come - home," she finished half-heartedly as Spock looked back up at her with a new curiosity.

"You- waited for me?"

"Yes, Spock I have."

They cleared out of the diner in quick succession after that, and the waiter waved them out gladly, as he clutched his whopping five-dollar tip.

Amada had them take the bus this time, her apartment was good five miles from the university and the heat in the city had hit an all-time high for the day. Even on the trolley, with the wind on his face, Jim could feel himself burning up. San Fransccio passed them in a blur and Jim kept his eyes out the window as Amanda detailed the things she had always hoped to show Spock. Apparently there were a great many things, things Amanda had collected on travels across the globe. After a while, even Jim was sucked into her stories of transatlantic voyages and rainforest treks. Amazing animals and people that she'd met. Her father had been a professor of anthropology, and as she had grown up she had had the chance to see plenty of the Earth's inhabitants. Sarek had obviously hit the jackpot when Amanda Grayson had stumbled upon his ship.

Finally, the heated trolley came to a rumbling halting stop, and Amanda rushed them off the bus before they could be squeezed out but the other sticky, sweaty passengers.

Her house was only a block more from the trolley stop, and Jim watched as they passed through a prettily made up neighborhood, the jarring tilt of the hill, making him feel slightly unbalanced. And then they were there, standing in front of a tiny white painted house with a porticoed roof, nearly glowing red with the sun setting just behind. The minimal garden space was filled to the brim with odd-looking cacti and succulents. Amanda fumbled for her keys as she grinned at Spock's fascinated face.

"It's small, but it's home," she said cheerfully as finally she stuck the right key in the doorknob and turned. The house's entryway was tiny, big enough for maybe two people to fit in, side by side. but it was decorated cozily, with pictures and hanging plants. Ji let Spock enter first, and then slowly he closed the door behind them.

**~~~**

Amanda's house despite its size was filled with fantastic things, each in their own special place. It didn't feel crowded, but it felt filled, and Jim watched quietly from behind as Amanda led them through the rooms. She had prizes and memorabilia from all her trips, and Jim couldn't help but gaze in wonder at all her treasures. Finally, as they reached the end of the tour, Amanda had them wait in the living room as she went to gather something from her bedroom.

"Won't be a moment."

Jim sat heavily on the plush couch, taking in a deep gulp of air before letting out a long sigh.

"She is- not what I expected,' Spock said quietly as he watched the doorway Amanda had exited through, still standing stiff and tall.

"She's a lot more, huh?" Jim asked as he stared at the highly detailed throw blanket from Kerala, India. Spock nodded, but he didn't necessarily look displeased by this notion, so Jim leaned back into the couch with another sigh. If Spock was happy that was all that mattered- Jim was just stupidly determined to not like the woman.

As Amanda finally returned, she carried in a largish wooden chest, held tightly to her chest, more protectively than she'd handled anything thus far. She set it gently on her coffee table in front of Jim and he shifted on the couch to make room for Spock. Amanda's hands fluttered nervously to her hair as Spock reached for the clasp of the chest, a leather strap, and a shining gold catch.

Inside were piles of notes, thinning and sun-bleached paper, stacks of notebooks, and a manila file stuffed into the chest. Jim and Spock peered down at it all, as Spock reached tp pick one of the topmost papers. Part of it was in a script Jim had never seen before, but here and there were added scribbles of English. From what Jim could parse it was shared diary of some kind, a log of Sarek and Amanda's time together.

"I know your father had his own way of data collection, but I always preferred my notes on written paper- that's all of it, all six months of our work together," Amanda said quietly, running her finger along the spine of one of the notebooks. Spock began speedily looking over all the loose work, eyes widening in surprise

"There is much here that my father did not mention in his reports," Spock said quietly, and Amanda chuckled softly.

"Sarek was always to the point. I think you'll find this is more of a human perspective on the matter," Spock nodded, his eyes still glued to the massive amounts of information in front of him, and Jim resigned himself to the fact they were going to be at this for a while.

And they were. Spock wanted to read all that he could get his hands on, so while Jim could barely read half of the cramped script, Spock tore his way through the documents. Amanda sitting by watching him them both carefully from her perch on the couch armrest. Jim went to work organizing the dated papers, at least happy with the fact Spock seemed beyond thrilled to be getting all the missing pieces to his parents' relationship. At some point, Amanda flicked on a lamp as the sun began its final set, and left the room to collect tea for them. Spock barely seemed to taste his as he finished up a large leather-bound notebook, an odd-looking emblem pressed into the spine. 

And then finally, every scrap of paper had been read, carefully organized, and placed carefully back in the chest. As Spock slipped the last loose sheaf of paper back in place, he turned to Amanda slowly.

"My father's accounts never mentioned the fight with the Romulan General Vreldaisa, it seems odd to not include such important information," Spock said quietly, and at the mention of Romulan, Amanda's face went pale.

"I- I don't think your father thought it necessary because I was the one that provoked it," both Ji and Spock looked to her in shock, but it was Jim who jumped into asking.

"But why?"

"He was the one that brought the news of the new treaty, the removal of all Vulcans from the planet's surface- I wasn't even supposed to hear but- I acted out, selfishly. I was nine months pregnant Spock and I saw myself losing- everything. I tried to reason with Vreldaisa, but I don't think he ever saw me as his equal, and that alone was enough to make my blood boil. And then he said I'd have to- to lose you to Spock and I lost it, I hit him, had enough that before he could even right himself I had had six phaser pistols pointed at my head."

"After that, the Romulans were beyond negotiating, any chance we had had of establishing Vulcan and human relations was through- I don't think Sarek ever forgave me for that," Amanda said quietly, twisting a piece of loose string around her fingers, over and over again, keeping her eyes away from the boys.

"When it came time for him to leave after you were born Spock- I told him to take you. I knew I couldn't - raise you his standards, and Vulcan always seemed so much more- more something. No more war, no more fighting over petty differences. Intellectual freedom to discover new things, I just thought that if you were going to be raised somewhere, it shouldn't be Earth," Amanda finished, finally drawing her eyes up to meet Spock’s. He didn't say a word, just gripped his mug a little tighter, and Jim had to physically restrain himself from reaching for his hand. He could see the tense lines of Spock's shoulders he didn't need to hold his hand now to see what he was feeling. Amanda had let him go without a fight.

But then Spock nodded his head in understanding, loosening his grip on his tea, letting his shoulders droop. Amanda's face lightened suddenly, and she stood from her precarious seat.

"It's getting pretty late, I've got a veggie casserole in the fridge that I can heat up and- and we can talk about the future now, no need to sough through the pas any longer," she nodded to herself as she finished, smiling softly she ran and hand through Spock's hair as she passed him. Jim watched her exit towards the kitchen then turned to Spock quickly.

"Spock are you-" Jim didn't get to finish his question as Spock stood and snapped the chest closed in front of them. His form looked relaxed but his demeanor was anything but, and Jim kept his mouth shut as Spock left the room along with his mother. 

Jim waited a few minutes, just trying to get his breathing under control. He couldn't take Spock's slight seriously, a lot had been revealed, a lot of harsh truths. He just- needed to stay by Spock's side and they'd wor through the rest. Taking a deep breath Jim pulled himself off the couch and headed to the kitchen.

**~~~**

Amanda seemed to be invigorated by Spock's silent forgiveness, and spent the dinner, talking about all of the plans she had for them. She and Spock that is.

"I was thinking Spock, if you do want to live with me, you could start taking university classes. I know most of them are probably below your current skill level but it could familiarize you with Earth culture a bit more. I know it's one thing to read about something, and another to experience it all together," Amanda said, serving Spock a heaping portion of casserole. 

"I was thinking after all our talk of travel we might go to the natural history museum tomorrow, Jim, of course, you'd be welcome to join us, but my father had an exhibit he put together for the museum and I would love to show it to you two."

"Would it be possible after everything has been arranged that we might explore more of the country? Jim and I have seen many interesting things in our travels, and many talented people. I feel a more- hands-on approach might allow me to become more acquainted with Earth culture. I have already learned so much from these past few weeks and I-" Spock was stopped by Amanda’s stricken look, and Jim could feel himself tense as she eased herself down into her seat.

"Oh Spock I don't- I think that's too much of a risk. Maybe- maybe in a year or two, when things have settled, but San Francisco is safe," she said carefully, shifting her fork and knife into precise parallel lines. Jim could see out of the corner of his Spock’s lips droop down in disappointment, and Jim could not help but think of Sarek. Spock had just escaped one parent too disinterested to care, and now he was being faced with one too scared to let him live.

"I see," Spock picked up his fork carefully and began cutting away at a piece. Amanda didn’t seem to notice his disappointment. 

"But there's so much to see in the city, you'll be amazed Spock, your father loved-"

Jim stood sharply from the table making the chair behind him squeal on the tiled floor. Amanda and Spock turned to him in surprise, one of Spock’s eyebrows raising to look at him carefully. Jim took a deep breath and stepped away from the table moving his chair back into place.

“I just- I need to get some air,” Jim said quietly, and Amanda nodded at him slowly.

“The porch is right through there,” she pointed through the opposite entrance to the kitchen, where Jim could see a closed screen door. He nodded once, and then stalked out the room, feeling hot and irritated.

He exited out onto the porch, wanting to- to run or jump or do something to get this violent feeling in his chest to go away. He stumbled to the porch’s railing, feeling the sticky evening air envelope him completely. He couldn’t get a deep enough breath in his lungs to feel refreshed, the air was too thick, and his throat felt like it tight.

As Jim stared out into the lit city in front of him, hearing the buzz of late-night traffic, the screen door moved open behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was Spock.

“You have been acting irregular all afternoon, I can not seem to find a reason for this behavior,” Spock’s voice sounded, and Jim gripped that edge of the railing tight.

“How can you- how is it not bothering you, what she did to you?” Jim snapped, whirling around from his slumped position at the railing. Spock’s eyebrows flew up, the briefest moment of surprise before his face smoothed.

“She is my mother Jim, she took what information she had about my father and the difference between their cultures, and decided logically that Vulcan would be the best for me. She could not have foreseen my difficulties,” Spock spoke evenly, not a hint of inflection in his voice surely meant to soothe Jim’s temper, but it did nothing but make his blood boil.

“Humans may have the potential to be cruel, but we also have empathy, Spock. She shouldn’t have sent you off, I don’t care if it was of sound logic, she’s your mom, and you grew up alone on a planet full of people who didn’t care about you. And don’t tell me all her little touches don’t make you uncomfortable. She doesn’t know you, Spock, and she never even tried to!” Jim barked, and the minute the words left his mouth he knew they had been a mistake. The silence that fell between them was chilling, freezing in fact. Jim’s breath halted in his lungs as he watched the minute movement in Spock’s features.

“Your anger is unjustified,” Spock’s voice was steel, so cold that Jim had to take a step back.

"Just because you think it's irrational doesn't make it unjustified Spock. I care about you, that justifies it enough," Jim spat back feeling like a caged animal with that cold look pointed in his direction. Spock gave an abortive sort of shake to his head, as if in disbelief at Jim's words.

"This was supposed to be- you were supposed to be happy for me. She is my mother and she cares about me as well, that should be enough," Spock said coolly and Jim let out a sardonic sounding laugh.

“It should be, shouldn't it. Spock you're letting her push you around! Things are going to get just as bad here as they were on Vulcan if you don't set up boundaries! Parents aren't meant to puppeteer your life. What- you think you'll be happy staying tucked away in her apartment while she goes on living? You'll be like her very own pet alien!"

"I think you should leave Jim."

" _What?_ "

"You are acting out in anger, and I think it's time you leave. I'm going to help Amanda clear away dinner. Please give Nyota my regards," and with that Spock was striding back inside, the door slamming behind him. It echoed in the heavy evening air, and with it took all the breath from Jim's lungs.

That wasn't supposed to happen- he'd just meant to- Spock couldn't have just. But he had, he had chosen Amanda over him, just like Jim had known when they'd reach San Francisco. Even after - he'd really thought. Jim could feel his hands shaking at his sides, and without really thinking, Jim took the steps off the back porch, feet pounding on the creaking wood. And as his feet picked up speed Jim realized he was running, his lungs clenching with effort, face hot with embarrassment and shame.

A song that had been drifting quietly through the radio during dinner played on a loop in his head. 

_Hot town, summer in the city_

_Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty_

_Been down, isn't it a pity_

_Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city_

Over and over again, over and over and over.

Jim kept running.


	8. Chapter 8

He didn’t even give Hikaru the chance to ask what was wrong, Jim had thanked him, forced fifteen dollars of cash into his hand for the help and then had gotten the hell out of dodge. He'd been angry, so angry, but as it boiled down and out of his system as he drove through the darkened heat swollen streets of San Francisco, Jim just felt empty.

He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. He'd had something, something that was so obviously rare and precious, and he'd shattered as easily as fine china. He should have kept his mouth shut but Spock had been- he was, pushing himself to make his mother happy. Amanda Grayson hadn't put the time in yet to see what Spock was really like, and truthfully Jim knew he couldn't blame her, she just needed time but Jim knew Spock felt like he had to conform to his father's wishes and he shouldn't have to do the same for his mother.

Spock wasn't human or Vulcan, he was some amazing unique in-between, and Jim just wanted him to himself. But then he'd gone ahead and lost it all.

The best thing he could now was to act as if everything was normal. That the detour to California had all been a part of his plan, and now he was finally going to go to Canada. That's where he'd make a new start for himself, away from everything that had plagued him here. Jim knew it was all bullshit. He kept driving anyway.

As one a.m. rolled around and the city light had long since faded, Jim pulled over to a small gas station. His truck clicked as it cooled, and he stepped out with a sigh and a sore back. A pimple-faced attendant nodded groggily as he handed over his fee, and then without really thinking he headed over to the station's payphone.

He dialed his home phone blearily, feeling the soreness in all his muscles from sitting hours on end tense in the front seat. The line rang and rang, until finally

"Uh- hello, Winona Kirk speaking," the tired voice of his mother said, gasping in yawn afterward, and Jim let himself smile slightly.

"Mom hey it's Jim- sorry if I woke you."

"James? No, I wasn't- I was hoping you would call soon I-"

"Listen, mom, I'm on my way to Canada.”

“James.” 

“It'll take me a couple of weeks because I've got to stop up somewhere for more cash but you don't have to worry anymore about-"

" _ James _ ," his mother very nearly snapped over the phone, and Jim's mouth closed tight. He could hear her taking a deep breath over the phone like she was trying to spool together her thoughts in the correct order and need the extra time.

"James, your brother is alive." 

Suddenly Jim felt like his feet had left the earth, that he wasn't in a dinky little phone box on the edge of San Francisco, that he was actually back home goofing around with his brother who wouldn't stop changing the channel on the radio, getting ready to sit down for dinner because. Because that was possible. Samuel Kirk was alive.

"James, are you there?" Winona Kirk's voice broke through his reverie, sounding clear and cool like fresh spring water. He blinked a couple of times feeling wet on his face and then let out a shaky little breath.

"Yeah- yeah sorry Mom, I'm here."

"I couldn't figure out a way to contact you sooner, but I got a call a couple of days ago, from an army hospital out in California. I thought I was going crazy with how that coincidence lined up James, you being there and all but- they put me through and he's been wandering through the Vietnam jungle for months, he was malnourished with a bit of nasty head wound but- he's alive James."

"What- what army hospital ma?" 

"The Letterman army hospital, but James you've got to be careful, it's crawling with soldiers you can't -" his mom's voice took on its usual maternal tone of concern but Jim couldn't just let this go, it was his brother back from the dead. He couldn't just not go see him. Soldiers be damned.

"I swear I won't get caught, but I've got to see him ma, I've got to see that he's okay," Jim said, feeling like his chest was swelling with joy. There was a pause on the other end of the line, and a small sigh of defeat.

"Don't give them your name, say your Sam's cousin, who knows who would recognize your name James," His mother said wearily, but Jim grinned anyway.

"You know how careful I am Ma, listen I'll pick him up a nice welcome home gift, should I buy him flowers from you?"

"Better make it that and a box of caramels," he could hear her laughing on the other end, slightly wet sounding, but a laugh nonetheless.

"I'll see ya talk to ya soon mom, with any news from Sam," Jim said gently, and he could hear his mother sniffing quietly on the other end.

"Talk to you soon James," and with that, the phone clicked and Jim was alone in the phone booth once again. But it was hard to feel lonely, or even down in the dumps now, really there was no way for Jim not to feel like the world was his oyster. He got directions from the gas station attendant for the Letterman Army hospital and then was off like a shot.

**~~~** ****

The Letterman building was crawling with military personnel, which was unsurprising but still a disappointment. He'd parked about a half-mile away from the actual compound, in a secluded little beach park, and walked the rest of the way. He could see through the glass doorway a concierge desk flanked by two burly looking guards, each chatting friendly with the lady behind the desk. All Jim had to do was sneak past them, and find his brother. Yeah, super simple. ****

He'd considered first, giving a fake name, but there would be no way they wouldn't ask for I.D, and Jim was sorely lacking in anything other than his own, tucked safely in his wallet. He could of course always give his real name, but it wouldn't be long before they'd figure out just how stupid of a move he'd pulled. ****

As Jim was considering his options, one of the guards inside nudged his partner, and they waved to the concierge politely, before heading out the doors out of sight. The guard rotation was starting, and Jim had an opening. He stood up from his crouched position behind some bushes and made his way towards the front door trying to look as at home as he possibly could. Head high, shoulders back, and a look of assurance clear on his face.  ****

There wouldn't be a way to sneak past the lady behind the desk, not with the glass doors giving away his position, he would just- need to figure out something on the fly. She looked up immediately as he entered, a friendly smile directed towards him as he ambled up to her station. ****

"How may I help you today young man?" she asked politely and Jim's mind went blank. He said the first thing that came to mind. ****

"I'm here to visit Samuel Kirk- he should have just got in last week," Jim kept his expression neutral but he could feel his heart about to beat out of his chest. Now she was going to ask who he was and then what would he say, what had he just- ****

"Alrighty then, just sign the visitor's sheet and head down that hallway, He should be in Wing B5," she smiled kindly, pushed a clipboard and pen in his direction.  ****

That simple. 

Jim could feel his cheeks flushing red as he quickly signs the name Leonard McCoy down, smiled tightly at her as he pushed it back in her direction, and sped off down the hall she'd directed. ****

No one so much as looked in his direction as he made his way to Wing B5, the doctors and nurses were too preoccupied with their own jobs and problems to notice one more young man in their building. ****

Jim finally let himself breathe a sigh of relief, he was only one step closer to seeing his brother, just a couple more yards and then- and then Jim would have back something he was sure he'd lost for good. ****

Wing B5 was a long hall of hospital beds, not quite packed full, but there were plenty of young men sleeping or reading up in bed, bandages covering different assortments of body parts. Jim wasn't sure how he was going to find Sam in the mess of it all, but he walked carefully among the wounded, nodding uncomfortably at the few who be awake and lucid enough to notice him. And then finally, tucked away behind a thin curtain Jim found him, nose deep in a book, a thick bandage wrapped around his middle. Jim found Samuel Kirk.

Jim shifted forward infinitesimally, but it was enough for Sam’s eyes to stray from his book, enough for him to catch sight of Jim staring in awe. Sam was quiet, jaw working and eyes wide with something like astonishment. ****

" _ Jim? _ " ****

"Hey Sam," Jim smiled weakly at his brother, eyes fixed on the massive bandage around his middle, and Sam's eyes followed Jim’s down to the bandage. ****

"It's not as bad as it looks," Sam said quickly, before looking back up at Jim. They stared in intense silence at one another, a dozen thoughts racing through their heads as the weight of meeting caught up with them. And then Jim was rushing forward and carefully, carefully wrapping his arms around his brother. Sam only gave a small hiss, but nearly immediately gripped Jim back, arm's weaker than they'd before but still strong enough to give a decent hug. They stayed like that for several minutes, just glad to have one another back, as Jim tries to collect his thoughts into a manageable way. ****

Finally, he takes a step back, wiping stray tears from his face, and Sam does the same. ****

"What are you doing here Jim? Mom said that-" ****

"I called her and she told me that- well I was already in California and I couldn't just," Jim tried to make sense, but Sam's face bent in confusion. ****

"I thought you were head - up North," Sam said quietly, and Jim nodded once, stiff. ****

"I was but I took an unexpected detour, a friend needed help and I- that doesn't matter though, after this I'll be back on my way but- God Sam, we thought you were dead," Jim choked on his words a little bit, wiping a little more aggressively at his dripping eyes and Sam looked at him hard for a moment until his expression softened to something else. ****

"I thought I was doing too, to be truthful with you Jim. I got separated from my troop and then shot by a sniper. I basically wandered the jungle for days wounded a delirious, by the time I made it back to civilization I could tell the general in charge my name I was that far gone, It's why I was considered missing for so long. Sam said quickly moving his hand to the bandage white a neat against his bruised mottled skin. ****

"I'm sorry Sam- I know what you must think of me, with the running and-" ****

"No," Sam stopped him with a harsh look and Jim looked up in shock. There were only a few times in Jim's memory when Sam had spoken that harshly to him before, and they were not times Jim had ever been proud of. Sam dropped his serious gaze, and let out a heavy breath of air.

"No, Jim, you don't know what I'm thinking. I know before- before I left I- I was naive, I thought I was doing something right but- what's going on over there, it's not just- it's not good. I didn't die but half my troop was killed before I got lost. Kids your age, some a little younger and I- I can't see the good in any of it anymore," Sam said shakily, dragging his finger along the spine of his book.

"I'm glad you ran, I'm glad you did something other than following my lead, God knows what would have happened if you'd done that," Sam said quietly, and Jim watched him for a moment before taking a step closer to the bed.

"At least you had something to believe in- half the time I just feel like I'm stuck, Sam. What's the point of running, if I can't stop the reason for it."

"It doesn't have to be selfish Jim, you could run for mom and me, knowing you're safe that would almost make all of this worth it."

"I don't think it is enough- I think for a while I was doing something right but- I screwed it up."

"Jim if there's one thing I know about you, there is nothing screwed up that you can't fix. You've got a big enough mouth to handle any situation," Sam said cracking a smile, and Jim playfully swatted him on the arm. Just a brush of fingers, Jim was too scared to push any harder.

"It was my big mouth that got me into this situation," Jim said quietly as Sam looked up at him questioningly. 

"Jim, there is so much going wrong in our world, types of hate you couldn't even imagine, if you think you were doing right by somebody, you have to try your hardest to make it right. You're no Kirk if you don't at least try," Sam said elbowing Jim lightly, and Jim took a deep settling breath.

"What if it's not enough?" Jim asked shakily, and Sam just shook his head with a smile.

"Then you know you didn't quit Jim, trying is all you can do," Sam replied, and Jim looked down at his hands to think.

"Yeah Sam, I guess you're right."

"Of course I am, now get outta here before you change your mind- I'm sure whatever friend you left behind is wondering where you are," Sam said, pushing Jim carefully away from the bed. Jim didn't ask how Sam knew it was a friend he'd let down, he just nodded along with a smile.

Before he was out of sight behind the curtain, Jim sent off a salute to his brother, who laughed so hard it echoed down the hall.  ****

**~~~**

Jim could tell something was off immediately, even before his truck came to a stop in front of Amanda Greyson's house. There was a stillness to everything, an eerie quiet that was instantly off-putting. Jim slammed on the break and parked off-centered on the curb, unbuckling his seat and flinging himself from the vehicle as fast as possible. He took to the porch, reaching to knock but the door pushed open at his hand, creaking open horrible and slow. Jim didn't want to look, did not want to cross the threshold, but the silence was killing him. He took the first step with his breath held, hands held tight in fists, whatever was going to meet him he would be ready for it. But nothing jumped from the darkened house, which stood still and quiet and totally, completely empty. ****

"Amanda?" was the first name out of his mouth, and it simply hung in the air, no response following. Jim could feel his heart clenching horribly, could feel his body going numb. The hallway seemed normal, too normal as he walked leaden-footed down its darkened corridor. And then Jim saw it, the first sign of actual distress. The entryway leading to Amanda Greyson's living room had a blackened chunk taken out of it, and Jim had seen it enough at this point to recognize it as phaser fire.  ****

"Spock!" At the sight of this Jim's mind suddenly came alight, because it was real now, there was no plausible deniability. Jim would be met with a horrible sight now. ****

He pushed himself to move into the living room, and his eyes touched upon a mess of phaser scorch marks, pieces of furniture torn apart and broken, priceless family heirlooms destroyed, Amanda's trinkets from around the world shattered at his feet. It looks like a tornado had come through and ripped the entire room apart. But Jim knew it had been no tornado who had done this. ****

The Romulans had found Spock. And Jim had been too late.


	9. Chapter 9

"Jim! Back so soon. I was kinda worried with how you left-" Hikaru stopped mid-sentence as Jim approached, eyes red from lack of sleep and hours on the road.

"You okay? You don't look so hot," Hikaru asked, rushing to Jim's side, hands not quite touching, but hovering if help was indeed needed.

"Where's Nyota?" Jim asked in a barely audible croak. Hikaru's eyes widened in surprise but he was able to respond.

"She's at the university, there's a demonstration going down that she's part of, why, what's the matter- is Leonard okay?" Hikaru finally asked, noticing that particular missing piece. Jim felt numb to his core, and right about now Hikaru was the only help he was going to get.

"Hikaru, do you think you could keep a secret?" Jim asked, and Hikaru nodded, looking vaguely unsure.

"Good, because Leonard has been kidnapped and I need help getting him back." 

"Kidnapped," Hikaru started, hands jumping to his shirt pocket for a cigarette.

"And his name's not actually Leonard, it's Spock. He's an alien- are you still in?" Jim asked, as inspiration suddenly struck him. Spock's bag was still tucked safely in the cab of his truck. Jim had never really pried into his belongings because he'd never had the need too], but there had to be something in there to help locate Spock. Or the Romulans. Or just anything to help. Hikaru followed, looking a little hysterical.

"Okay, no, you're pulling my leg. Len's gonna jump outta the truck any second and you'll have a real laugh.  _ Right, Jim?  _ " Hikaru asked, standing back as Jim hoisted Spock's bag out of the truck with a grunt. It was far heavier than he'd imagined and it hit the ground with a loud thud.

Hikaru stopped making protestations once Jim had ripped open the bag, revealing Spock's own phaser tucked neatly in with a sheet of thin metal and glass. It began to glow with a pale blue light as suddenly as Jim's hand touched it. 

"You weren't- kidding huh," Hikaru said, not really as a question as both Jim and he stared down at the glowing pad, as the symbols on the screen began to take on a more intelligible state. As what Jim knew now to be Vulcan script, slowly melted into English, Jim began to read the words scrolling past at a dizzying speed. 

"Are those coordinates?" Hikaru muttered, bending over Jim's shoulder to get a look.

"They look like- transmissions sent out - Jesus Spock how come you didn't show this to me sooner," Jim cursed as he grabbed up Spock's phaser along with the datapad.

"What didn't he tell you?" 

"He's been tracking transmissions on Earth from non-Earth radios. They've been careful up till now but I guess they thought- the point is the Romulans slipped up, and I have time to save him," Jim said hurriedly, shoving the bag and Spock's stuff back into the back of the truck cab, Hikaru looking after him like he was mad. At this point, Jim wouldn't argue with that particular thought.

"Do we still need Nyota?" Hikaru asked, allowing himself to be ushered into the passenger seat by Jim.

"The more the better- listen, Hikaru, I'm not asking you to put yourself in danger for me- I just need a distraction. I'll do the rescuing part- if anything,  _ anything _ goes wrong I want you and Nyota out of there okay?" Jim looked at him seriously and Hikura paused a moment before nodding his head deliberately. 

**~~~**

Picking up Nyota is the easiest part. Convincing her of the situation, however, was another problem of its own.

"I've got better things to do with my time Hikaru than being dragged across the city for some prank," she snapped from her seat, very nearly elbowing Hikaru in the ribs. The truck was packed full, a tangle of limbs and anxious bodies. Jim didn't have time to explain, so he motioned for Hikaru to take out Spock's tablet. They'd tucked it under the dash as soon as they had figured out where the transmission had been coming from for the last two hours.

Nyota didn't so much as flinch when Hikaru brought it out though, and Jim had half a mind to think about dropping her back off at camp. If she couldn't understand the threat the Romulans would present she would be in more danger than he was willing to put her in. But she took the tablet from Hikaru's hands and watched carefully as the data sped past, updating every second. Slowly she lowered it down into her lap, with a frown.

"Now- I may not be able to completely wrap my mind around Aliens but- if Leonard-"

" _ Spock _ ," Jim cut in, bit winced when Nyota sent him a sharp look.

"If  _ Spock _ really is in trouble, I'll do what I can to help," she finished quickly handing the pad back to Hikaru. Jim couldn't take his eyes off the road, couldn't risk slowing down, but he nodded his head in thanks.

"You just have to promise me Nyota, the first sign of trouble and you're both out of there, I can't have more people to worry about," Jim finally said, and Nyota huffed out a sigh.

"Jim I know we've only known each other for a day now but, do I look like the kind of person to run from a fight?"

"No- no you don't," he said sheepishly, and Nyota nodded seriously.

"Good, now that that's settled, where are we headed?" she asked leaning towards the window curiously.

"The transmission is coming out of the Red Wood forests, guess it's the best place to hide a spaceship," Hikaru said, his mouth twisting up at the word space ship, the idea still a little too comical to him.

"And they haven't left yet, because-?" Nyota asked, looking to Jim, and he shrugged.

"Best guess is, the ships are not there anymore- I don't think the Romulans are supposed to be here anymore than Spock was, not planet side at least. My bet is the ships orbiting and the landing party is waiting for them to come back around- at least that's my hope. I don't think I can handle a whole ship of them," Jim said warily, glancing up at the sky through the windshield. It was clear of clouds, a simple, bright, pale blue. It seemed crazy to think up there may be a warship ready to come down. 

"But we'll get there before it, and Leonard- er Spock'll be okay," Nyota said somewhat reassuringly, and Jim nodded along, trying to believe her words.

"Now- about that distraction."

**~~~**

The distraction was easy to set up, once they found the source of the transmission. A band of a dozen or so Romulans were set up deep within the RedWood forest, in a clearing large enough for an airplane to land. There in the middle of the tight-knit huddle were Spock and Amanda, unconscious but seemingly okay. 

Jim posted himself behind a truly gigantic fallen log and waited for his cue. The Romulans weren't quite so serious looking than the ones Jim had seen before, chatting amongst themselves, two off to the side playing a game of cards Even with the doubt the distraction Jim would have a decent chance of sneaking past this lot. But before he could think a thought more like that, music was being blasted from farther into the forest, The Beach Boy's new single Wouldn't It Be Nice shaking the Romulans from their stupor. five of the twelve jumped up from their positions, weapons at the ready, already hot on the trail of the blaring music. The rest began checking their perimeter. With the seven left, Jim kept himself hidden, but pulled forth from his jacket pocket Spock's phaser, in the stunning setting. A setting that had never been on the Romulans' phasers. From his hidden position, Jim took aim, and before the others could react, two of them were down for the count leaving five more to handle alone. The music was circling the encampment now, and if you listened hard enough you could hear excited laughter as Nyota in Hikaru driving drove his truck through the RedWood forest.

The remaining Romulans tightened their formation, phasers out and eyes wide with fear. Jim couldn't get a good aim this time, having to give away his position as he rushed for a new spot. One of the Romulans caught sight of his lithe form cutting through the underbrush and fired, thankfully missing, lighting a minor fire behind him. Jim shot out as he ran, hitting quality in the chest.

Jim could feel excitement pooling in his chest, it almost seemed like he could do this, there were only four left not chasing the truck, and- something came down hard on his head from behind, and Jim went down hard.

**~~~**

Jim awoke to pain, sharp and constant. He also awoke to the feeling of a phaser against his temple. He opened his eyes slowly, the light beckoning a new wave of agony. 

"Ah, the little one is up. I was wondering if I hit you too hard. Now I see it wasn't hard enough. Three of my people disposed of, the others tricked, who knew humans had so much ingenuity," the voice was piercing, but Jim forced his eyes to open to look and see who this new threat was. It was a Romulan man, with a thick wave blonde hair, a color Jim had yet to see in any of the Romulans he'd encountered. 

"Who are you?" Jim asked, his eyes skittering to catch sight of the still unconscious forms of Amanda and Spock.

"General Vreldaisa, not that that means anything to you," the general sneered down at Jim.

"On the contrary General, I'm quite aware of who you are," Jim spat, and the General chuckled darkly.

"How did you do it then little one, how did you find us?"

"Got lucky I guess," Jim said, stalling, but the General merely laughed.

"Luck, how human. And you acquired this phaser by luck no doubt too?" The General asked, holding out a second phaser above Jim's head. Jim shrugged and the General stopped chuckling.

"We'll find your compatriots too, tire marks are quite easy to track," The General snapped, but all Jim could be given a sigh of relief. Jim could rest easy now knowing that Nyota and Hikaru had gotten away in time, that they weren't also staring down the head of a phaser rifle.

"So what? You guys aren't even with the Emperor huh? You've broken just as many rules as Spock has," Jim snapped, too far gone to care now, he Vrekais was going to shoot him, there wasn't going to be anything on Earth that could stop him. Vreldaisa smirked, shaking his head pityingly.

"The Emperor will praise our efforts when he learns of what we've done. We have secured plenty of Earth's resources while your governments have turned away to fight their petty wars. Oil, coal, all precious material to Romulus," Vreldaisa smirked, solving the phaser a little harder into Jim's temple.

"So what? Spock's your puppet? Vulcan can't do anything if the ambassador's son is held ransom? You don't know your enemies well enough General. They won't care," Jim spat and Vreldaisa growled at his mocking tone, and suddenly brought down the phaser on Jim so hard he fell face-first into the dirt, seeing stars as he did so. He felt sick as he looked up at the towering form of Vreldaisa, glowering down at him. 

"Your insolence is no longer amusing, it is a shame to kill you thought. Humans are so much more like us than our Vulcan cousins- if only for a few details," Vreldaisa's boot came down to cover Jim's ear, pushing his face even further into the rocky dirt. Jim could hear the phaser charging, could almost feel the heat from the machine, being pointed at his head.

And then nearly as suddenly as Jim heard Vreldaisa's finger moving for the trigger, something materialized above them, and Jim grinned into the dirt.

"What-" Vreldaisa stumbled back off of Jim, still holding his phaser a loft, but it was nothing compared to the Vulcan ship hovering as tory above them. Jim's back up plan had succeeded, Sarek had received his message, and Vreldasia was going to lose.

But the general did to quiver in fear for long, as soon as he saw the ship begin its landing he took off into the woods, the rest of his crew watching in awed horror at their fleeing leader. Jim groaned as he got up on his knees, wiping blood from his eyes as he did so. 

As the ship landed across the clearing, Jim stumbled to his feet, taking a few shuddering steps in the direction of Spock and Amanda. They were both still unconscious, tied up, and Jim just needed to make it a couple more feet. 

His legs nearly gave out from under him, but he was finally able to collapse to his knees in front of Spock's slumped figure. Carefully shifting hair from his face, Jim looked over Spock's injuries. A black eye and split lip, but nothing so serious as their last Romulan encounter.

"Spock?" Jim placed his hands carefully on either side of Spocks, shaking him just slightly. For a moment he was unsure if that was enough, but then Spock's eyes were fluttering open. It took several more tries though to get him lucid until he was staring at Jim with recognition.

"Jim- what are-?" Spock's eyes caught on to the now landed Vulcan ship and his focus increased.

"I contacted your father Spock, it was the only thing I could think of to get you out of this mess," Jim said quietly, as he carefully unwound the rope tying his hands together. Spock nodded carefully, keeping his eyes ahead of him.

"It was a logical decision. There is safety in numbers."

"Yeah but- I know the relationship with your dad is difficult, I know that calling him here will have consequences for you," Jim said watching as the Vulcan's transported the rogue Romulan back to their ship.

"It is no use debating the bad now, You saved me and my mother, Jim, I could not ask for more from you," Spock said, finally turning back to look as Jim finally undid his bindings. 

Jim was about to speak when a voice in front of them spoke somber and low.

"Spock," the man in front of them could only be Sarek. He was tall, all angles and sharp looks, dressed in heavy-looking brown and amber robes.

"Father," Spock stood shakily to his feet, and Jim stood with him, hand at Spock's back in case he needed to be steadied.

"It is a surprise to me to see you so well," Sarek said, eyeing Spock's cut lip and bruised eye like they were simply scraped knees on the playground, and already Jim could feel himself gearing for a fight. At Spock's look of determination though, Jim wasn't sure he'd be the one fighting.

"I've had help, father. I am not so incapable of asking for it when I need it," Spock said cooly, and Sarek eyed him harshly. 

"The damage your emotional outburst has caused is far more than I am capable of fixing, you may need more help than you can receive," Sarek paused, eyes cutting to Jim.

"Come now, Spock." Sarek's gaze did not even drift close to his son again, instead, he turned swiftly back to his ship, already ordering the cleanup of the firefight. Jim stood stock still, his cheek still aching from the hits he'd taken, and he had half a mind to cling ferociously to the hand still held in his. But slowly Spock's hand fell away, his shoulders stiff with tension, and Jim let him go. He just had to hope-

"No." Sarek's back stiffened, if it could with such straight posture, and his head slowly turned to look upon his son. Spock had his feet planted, just a few steps from Jim, the voice that had echoed from his mouth was firm and unyielding, a voice even Jim would have headed.

" _ Spock, _ " Sarek turned fully to him, his calculating but unreadable, Jim had no real clue how this would turn out.

"We can not leave Earth as you did so many years ago. The humans need us, they deserve our help," Spock spoke steadily, his voice unwavering, and Jim saw something flash in Sarek's eyes.  _ Anger? Disappointment? Maybe hope? _

"You have broken our laws, you have disobeyed the Romulans’ peace treaty, what logic do you have to back your claims, Spock?" Sarek asked coolly, almost a monotone but there was definitely something of an edge in his voice.

"The Romulans broke their own treaty years ago, father, if you explore their ship, and read their transmissions, they have been stationed on Earth for over a decade. They are fueling discourse between humans for their own needs. If the Vulcan people were to stand by and allow the mistreatment of Earth just because of human’s supposed lack of judgment, we would be no better than our volatile ancestors," Spock said harshly, his rigid demeanor slipping for just a moment, and in that instant, Jim very much wanted to kiss him. 

Sarek stood stock still for several moments, face unmoving. Slowly he motioned for his guards to approach and then spoke lowly in a dialect Jim had no ear for. The guard nodded and quickly gathered a group of Vulcan's to approach the Romulan ship.

"If what you say is true Spock, my son, there is a chance, an unlikely chance, we will be deemed fit to help," Sarek finally said, his face softening so very slightly Jim barely had a chance to catch it. And then Sarek's eyes were on him, and Jim felt like maybe it'd be a good time to bolt. 

"James Kirk, you are the one that assisted my son in his travels?" Sarek asked calmly, and Jim simply nodded his head as Spock took a few steps back to stand with him again. Jim nearly startled when Spock slid his hand back into Jim's grip, but Sarek didn't mention it when he spoke again.

"I must thank you then. While Spock is capable, Earth holds many dangers he could not have faced alone," Sarek said calmly, and then from the recess of his robe, he drew forth his hand and split his middle and ring fingers apart while keeping the rest connected. Feeling there was some importance to this sign, Jim tried his best to recreate it and achieved it with only a little difficulty. Finally, Sarek nodded, his eyes drifting to Amanda who was still being treated for her head wound.

"If you will excuse me, I must discuss the events of today with your mother," and with that, he departed, a little too quickly for just a discussion in Jim's opinion, but then he and Spock were left alone. Still holding hands.

"You stood up to him. How did that feel?" Jim asked a smile slowly creeping on to his face, and for a moment Spock looked up thoughtfully, taking a moment to think.

"I will have to consider doing it again," Spock said softly, moving to face Jim head-on. He was smiling, his soft small smile and Jim suddenly remembered his previous urge to kiss him.

"So Vulcans on Earth, you think it's really going to happen?" Jim asked, moving just a little bit closer, his hand settling softly at the dip of Spock's back.

"I think with the evidence from the Bird of Prey there will be reason enough," Spock's voice dropped to a whisper as he threaded his hands behind Jim's neck.

"And what'll you do, Spock, stay or go?" Jim murmured, tilting his head up.

"That- is an illogical question," and with that Spock closed the gap between them.


	10. Epilogue

The evidence collected from the Romulan ship was enough for the Vulcans to make their move and entered the scene with a resounding crash. The Vulcans were not something to be kept secret, to be postponed or delayed, they were there, and the Earth was meant to pay attention. 

The Earth delegates moved aside fairly easily when their whole world views took a very alien punch to the face. Petty disagreements did not stop immediately, but in the face of interstellar travel, and a protective force like the Vulcans on all their sides, they became less and less relevant as time passed. Sarek, besides Jim's own opinions on his parenting methods, was an expert negotiator, and within months of Vulcan's hesitant appearance on the planet, it seemed peace was inevitable.

While Sarek worked his magic, there continued to be several more tumultuous months for Jim. After the debacle of the Romulan kidnapping, Jim had been escorted away by U.S. soldiers and questioned for hours on end. Apparently the same could be said for Spock with the Vulcans. Eventually, both of them were released, thanks to Sarek, but that hadn't been good enough for Jim. For all the trouble he'd been through, being let go to have others handle all these new problems, it just seemed like running away again. Jim asked to be a part of the negotiations. He and Amanda were, after all, the top human experts on Vulcans.

So beyond any of Jim's wildest most fever driven dreams, he became a public figure. An international figure at that. He did what he could with what little power he was granted, swaying certain world leaders into understanding the need for unity now, with so much to be accomplished in the scientific fields with the help of the Vulcans. 

And from all these talks, was born the Enterprise initiative. 

The Enterprise Initiative, a Vulcan and Human manned space mission, created to bring the two species together. It was designed in part by Jim and Spock who had themselves found months of travel together was a perfect way to bring people closer. Jim had even finagled the launch site in Riverside just two miles away from his home. All the open fields were too good to pass up.

The Enterprise's first stop from Earth would be Vulcan, where they would spend several weeks learning about the planet's customs, it's people, and everyday life. From there well, there was plenty to look for. 

The ship's crew would be made up of scientists, engineers, doctors, diplomats, and artists, a mixture of Vulcan and Human. Jim's hope would be that each would learn new ways about their own professions through each other. Spock just seemed to be excited that so many great minds would be in the same place at once.

And the kicker to it all was that each of them had first choice for parts of the crew. Jim of course recommended Bones for one of the medical staff, and after a later discussion with Hikaru and Nyota about their work at San Francisco University. Hikaru was assigned to the Botany labs and Nyota to communications. Spock immediately brought up Scotty and Chekov for the engineering department, and Jim couldn't have agreed more readily. It took several rather heated debates with Sarek, but they made it work. The people who had helped them across the country had a chance to reach the stars.

Bones was the hardest to convince to come along. His main concern was Johanna, but after Jim explained that he would have as much data on Vulcan physiology that he wanted, he agreed as long as the Vulcan's found a way to do long distance calls in space.

The world went nuts over the idea, and the rest of the ship's positions were filled nearly instantly by awestruck scientists and scientific people around the globe. The ship's roster looked like something from the U.N. And James T. Kirk was a part of it.

The ship's launch was going to be broadcast on both Earth and Vulcan, in nearly every household two planets over. Jim had to laugh considering the differences between how the two would be carried out. He could hardly imagine a Vulcan sitting down in an easy chair with a ready-made meal in front of a T.V. Spock had to agree that that mental image was not quite correct.

As the nights wore closer and closer to the day of lift-off, Jim would find himself waking up in the middle of the night with the insatiable urge to stargaze. He did it nearly every night, and sometimes if he was feeling lonely enough he'd call Spock on his PADD (gifted to him by Spock) and they would sit together quietly as Spock would point out, beyond Jim's sight the different planets, stars and stars away that they would visit. Jim could never seem to get enough.

And then suddenly, after all the preparation, hope, and turmoil, it was the day of the launch.

A year had never felt so very long and very short at the same time to Jim. To think of all the things that had been accomplished, all the things that had rearranged and changed for the better. There was still so much to do, so much that he hoped to be a part of. 

The farm in Riverside was quiet, just wrapping up a busy summer, and the serenity of the fields before Jim felt like a calming balm to his raging nerves. Stepping off of the porch of his childhood home, Jim wrapped his jacket a little tighter around himself and began walking out towards the cornfields, tall and beautiful. The jacket had been a gift from Sarek, a thicker, more sturdy material than Jim had ever owned, and the wind that was rolling its way across the field did little to him. The sky was a pale, autumn blue, so bright and cloudless Jim had to shield his eyes. He pushed his way into the corn, letting his hands drag along the stocks, knowing in only a few weeks they'd be ready to harvest. Of course, he'd be missing it this year once again. 

Even in the maze of corn towering over him, Jim could see the tip of the space ship's dock. Six months in space, a trip to Vulcan, and all the dignitary meetings Jim could stand. It all sounded like a dream, even more so when Spock was counted in. 

Jim could feel himself smiling at the thought. Not that the Vulcan science vessel would be a bucket of laughs, but with Spock, Amanda, and all their friends there for company, Jim couldn't see a downside to the travel.

Jim stopped near the middle of the cornfield, taking in a deep, clean breath of Iowa air, feeling the stiff and fertile soil beneath his feet, memorizing the feel of the Earth, before he-

The crackling of shifting corn stalks made Jim jump, but from the shifting cobs appeared Spock's face, tinted red from the cold. He shivered a little as he approached Jim, and immediately Jim wrapped him in a hug.

"Your dad's special coat not doing the trick?" Jim asked warmly, allowing Spock to nuzzle his cold nose into Jim's neck.

Spock hummed wordlessly, and Jim couldn't help but chuckle lightly. They stood together several moments before Spock pulled away slowly looking a little warmer.

"Your mother was looking for you, she would like you to come in for one last lunch with her." 

Jim looked down at his watch for a moment noticing the time with a start.

"Do we have time for that, I don't want your dad to throw a fit," Jim said with a frown, grabbing Spock's hand to march them out of the field. Spock smiled wordlessly next to him but managed to slow Jim's race to the house.

"We have ample time to give your mother a proper farewell, my father can- _stow it_ ," Spock said and Jim nearly choked himself with laughter.

"You learn that one from Bones?" Jim asked with a grin, and Spock shrugged his shoulders minutely.

"I may have picked it up between one of our visits with him, you know he's getting along famously with the Vulcan medical staff at the base."

"Does famously mean something else in Vulcan because from what I heard they're driving each other up the walls," Jim said with a grin. Spock very nearly rolled his eyes as he ushered Jim to get moving.

"We _will_ be late for takeoff if we debate any longer. Your mother was making what she claimed to be her ‘ _famous potato salad’_ when I caught her last," Spock said, placing his arm around Jim's waist leading him the rest of the way out of the cornfield. Jim leaned into his touch with a closed mouth grin that he covered in Spock's shoulder. 

In the distance, their ship, the first of its kind, a Vulcan and human-made vessel was preparing for its imminent launch. And despite all the adventures ahead of him, Jim could only focus on the now. The hand around his waist, the home cooked meal inside, and his family all around him to share it. 

Change had always been inevitable in Jim Kirk’s case. But what a change it had been.


End file.
